


Zephyr Forest

by swirlycloud



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Long work in progress., M/M, Ships and any others to come may take a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1535366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swirlycloud/pseuds/swirlycloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the recent establishment of the village called Konoha, peace is no longer a distant dream; the clans have been united, at last, and with the help of the one he cares for most, the hopes and desires of a young Senju finally have a chance at being realized. Gen-ish. MadaHashi, possible side pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic is to be set in the canon universe - more specifically, in the same universe as Across the River (drabble series), which is not necessary to read first, or at all.
> 
> The first segment below takes place about a week after Hashirama and Madara's families fought on the river—and the second segment (after the XxXxX) a few years later. (This is a combination of the latest 2 chapters of AtR, with a newly added conclusion which wraps up that story and marks the start of this one). Enjoy!

—-

After a hard day's work of maintaining their clan's border, it felt nice to come back home to his family. Killing people on a daily basis was no easy task; father had made sure to teach him that well. At only eight years old, he had learned many things well, in fact. Like the fact that...

Madara was better than him.

"Pfft." He scowled, and crossed his arms over his chest. He marched over to the common area of the home, set down his katana, and subsequently removed his sandals. The area of the room was still flooded with the light from the evening sun. He liked it. He liked the way the shadows formed behind certain pieces of their sparse furniture. He liked the way the light made things shine just right; and when you stood at the perfect angle...oh man. The view was just mesmerizing.

Izuna really liked the light. A _lot_.

With a happy smile, he sighed, and wandered through the home, eager to find his father. "Otou-san!" he called. He made his way to his parents' room. "Otou—" he said, stopping when he saw his father sleeping on the futon. He ran over to him and knelt down beside him, placing a small hand on his shoulder, attempting to wake him from his early slumber. "Father, father! I am home!" he said.

"..." Tajima's coal-colored eyes slowly opened, and a low groan escaped him as he shifted, trying to sit up. He stared into space for a bit before turning his head and looking down at his eager young son. Heavenly rays of light spilled onto the boy from behind the man, where the sun was nearing its last moments for the day, squeezing out every last drop of warmth it had to offer before it disappeared into the long, cold depths of the night. Izuna's face was lit like an angel. "What is it, Izuna?" he asked gruffly.

He was blunt. "How does the Sharingan work, father?" he asked curiously. "I mean, how do you get it, exactly?" He recalled his delight at seeing Madara achieve his just the week before.

His father placed a weary hand over his eyes before slowly dragging it down his face. "Don't worry, Izuna. You will get yours, too, at some point...you are a good ninja."

The boy pouted, and sat back onto the wooden floor, crossing his arms. "That's not what I was asking, father."

An eyebrow quirked up at him. "Oh?"

He continued. "What I _meaaann_ , is _how_ do you get it? What makes it just appear out of nowhere?" He studied his father's face, checking for any hints of deceit before he got his answer. _If I get it, then surely I can win against Tobirama this time!_

"Hah...Izuna. How old are you?" he questioned flatly.

"I am almost nine years old, father," the little Uchiha answered matter-of-factly. He paused. "Wait, don't you know that already? Or _do_ you! Did you forget how old I am? Because I know you haven't forgotten how old broth—" A hand was placed heavily on top of his head.

"Relax, boy. The Sharingan is something that only happens to a select few of our clan...you may or may not ever get it," he said in a stern, concrete tone. His face betrayed no expression.

Izuna's eyebrows came forward. "But didn't you just say—"

"...Then?" The rays of light were fading now, and only a faint glow could be seen on the boy's face. Tajima grimaced, lifting himself off the futon and into a standing position, and said, "You will understand later, Izuna. If I tell you right now, you may not understand. I want to be able to teach you properly..." He saw disagreement begin to take form on his face. "...and when the time comes," he assured, "...I _will_." He held his shoulder achingly as he moved away from the boy and proceeded to leave the room.

Izuna noticed the way his father held himself and frowned. Still, jealousy was on his mind. "But you are telling big bro all these things—"

"If you already know so much, then why are you asking, son?" He turned to face him as he stood in the doorway. "Right now...it is _his_ time..." He sighed heavily. "Be grateful that you have even survived to your age. Have some respect for your fallen brothers..." He let his stern look linger for a moment, and then rubbed his forehead before exiting into the hallway. Two hours of sleep was not enough to cure his exhaustion after a battle with several Senju and Akimichi shinobi. This time he'd only had his brother and cousin along with him, and they were not doing very well. "Go..."

He stopped, and turned back once more. He was surprised to see Izuna still standing there, several feet away from him. "Go get your brother, will you...Izuna? I need to talk with him."

Izuna stood there, pouting slightly, but then quickly removed the frown from his face, remembering what his father had just told him. "Yes, father." He sturdily turned around and proceeded to exit the abode in pursuit of his older brother.

Meanwhile, Tajima returned to go find his wife. Right now, she needed him more...

Her illness had been eating away at her, slowly, but now...things were beginning to turn for the worse, at a much faster rate than before. Grimly, he reached her closed door before taking in a breath, trying to appear happy. A reason...what reason would he need...

Madara.

Unlocking his Sharingan. She hadn't been told yet, due to her state before... A smile came upon his lips. Yes, that was...reason enough, for sure. The awakening of their clan's legacy...

Before his eldest son would come to see him, he slid open the door and slipped inside for a brief moment to greet her.

—-

* * *

The young Senju paced back and forth across the grass outside his home. What was going on...what was going on... He stopped suddenly, noticing a familiar presence nearby. He turned his head to the side and saw Hashirama approach him, wearing a curious expression upon his face.

"Tobi? What are you doing?"

He stared at him intensely for a moment, and then returned to his pacing.

"...?" His brother raised his eyebrows. He tried to enter their home, but whenever he got near, Tobirama crossed his path. Back and forth, back and forth...

Hashirama sighed and began to peel off his armor, but decided to let his headband stay. "Tobirama? Is there something you need to tell me?" He tossed the armor onto the ground in front of the small abode.

"Yes..."

He continued to pace, back and forth, back and forth...

"Actually...no."

More pacing.

Hashirama scrunched up his face and whined at him, "Aah! Tobirama! Cut it out, you're making me nervous!"

At this, he stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but after reading his elder brother's expression, he closed it, and resumed his pacing.

Hashirama fell onto the grass in a criss-cross position and performed the most epic facepalm he could. "Tobbiii~ra~ma~..." he groaned, looking up at his brother through his fingers. "Spit it out already!"

_So bad..._

_He is so bad with words..._

"Argh!" Tobirama grabbed his hair into his hands and pulled downwards. "You—"

His brother perked up. Now they were making some progress. "Okay..." he said slowly. "I...?"

"You..." Tobirama's eyebrows slid forward before he shook his head, sending his white hair into a more chaotic mess than usual. "M-Madara..."

"Now we're getting somewhere..." he said, completely unfazed by the name that fell from his brother's lips. _Now...all you have to do...is finish the sentence!_ "I know you can do it, Tobi-chan!" he urged, in a falsely enouraging tone.

His younger brother glared at him, unintentionally making his brother hold back a snicker at seeing his adorable face trying to look threatening. "This is not funny, anija."

He raised his eyebrows once again. "Oh dear. A coherent sentence. Are you able to continue now, or can I just go inside and fall into the deepest slumber imaginable...?"

Frowning, Tobirama blinked at his brother's awkward phrasing. "Uhh..." He closed his eyes, and slapped his own hand to his head. "Aahh."

Tired by the events of the day, Hashirama sighed once again and stood up, making his way to move past his still-pacing little brother. However, just as he neared the entrance, Tobirama stood in front of him, blocking his way. Hashirama frowned down at him. _He has been like this all week._ "What _is_ it already, little bro?" He settled a hand onto his brother's shoulder firmly, warmly. "What is eating you up so badly?"

Standing face to face, or rather face to chest, Tobirama stood quietly for a moment. He stared at the impeccable cleanliness on the front of Hashirama's shirt, kept spotless due the armor having been in place. "That week, when we met Izuna, his father and his brother...you remember?"

"Yes," he answered dryly, still staring into Tobirama's eyes which were focused only on his shirt. He looked down for a second. Was there something on there?

"...Just how long had you been seeing him?" he finally asked, and then looked up to meet his brother's eyes. He received a scowl in return.

"What, you hadn't been following me the whole time?"

"Obviously not," he retorted, frowning back at him. They stared at each other coarsely.

"What is it about that day that's pissing you off?"

His frown deepened. "I'm not mad. I just don't understand something..."

"...?" Hashirama's expression turned curious again.

"When Uchiha Tajima threw his tanto at me, you stopped it." His eyebrows slid forward in confusion. "...Why?"

"..." Hashirama slowly became horrified. Was he seriously asking that...? "What do...?"

"I mean, instead of throwing that rock to stop the blade, why didn't you try to cancel out the rock that Madara threw? Izuna would have died, right then!"

"...But...so would you..." Hashirama looked down at him seriously, incredulously. He was now genuinely horrified. He felt an involuntary stinging in one of his eyes.

"So?"

His expression became sad. "Tobirama...even if it meant winning against an enemy...I could never..." He examined his brother's expectant face with a steady, firm resoluteness. "There is no way in _hell_ I would trade your life for an enemy's...I want you to know that, Tobirama..."

"...But..."

"No exceptions!" he raised his voice. "You saw what Madara did! He did the _exact_ same thing! He could've stopped _my_ rock from hitting the tanto aimed for you...but he didn't. You see? Brothers care about each other." He placed his other hand on the younger Senju's shoulder, as well. "Madara is not a bad person. Just like I did, he chose to save his own, instead of letting you _both_ die." He studied the eyes of his little brother. In them was a mixture of confusion, understanding, relief, and love. It must be father... "You would've done the same, wouldn't you?"

Tobirama looked away, gradually realizing the kind intentions a family could have upon each other. He felt somewhat foolish in Hashirama's warm, almost paternal presence. It was like...he was being forgiven...for something...

"Yes..." he answered positively.

"So you see? If you would've looked out for me, then you should know that I would have done the same. Common sense, Tobi-chan!" _He is so similar to how mom was...not just in appearance...I wonder if he remembers her as well as I do?_

"...Thank you..."

Hashirama smiled gently. "Now...was _that_ what you had wanted to say, all this time?" _Had he just wanted to thank me, all along...?_ He removed his hands but then placed one on top of his head, ruffling up his shorter, snowy locks. "Tobirama..." He chuckled. "You are so awkward. You know that, right?"

"Pfft," he responded, and stepped out of Hashirama's way, reaching to retrieve the boy's carelessly tossed red armor from the ground. He picked it up, examining the metal surfaces carefully, and then turned around, watching his brother step inside.

 _If I could see Madara again...I'd ask about his brother..._ Hashirama sighed, and wondered, just as he did every day since the week past, if he would end up crossing paths with the Uchiha ever again.

—- —- —-

**XxXxXxXxX**

—- —- —-

Well, little Senju Hashirama had certainly gotten his wish.

"Ugh!"

Madara stared fiercely into his former friend's dark eyes. Their swords clashed for the fifth time that morning. Sweat dripped down from the backs of their necks. The swords shook in their strong, yet trembling hands. After quickly retreating, they both moved forward again and eventually found themselves locked in a battle of strength.

"I don't...want to have to fight you, Madara..." Hashirama said, breathing heavily. He jumped back as Madara did the same, and skidded to a halt. "This is enough..."

"Neither do I..." Madara finally admitted. "But it doesn't matter. And that's _Uchiha_ Madara, to you." His Sharingan glinted dangerously in the bright morning sunlight before the two ninja found themselves thrust into thick forest, where the sun's warm rays suddenly became something of a rarity.

Hashirama frowned. Several years had passed already since that day when Madara had declared himself his enemy. Would this never stop...? He clenched his teeth as he took a blow to the stomach; he really needed to stop getting distracted in front of him. But he is...

Taking no pleasure in this fight, Madara huffed before blocking the next blow aimed for him. Was this life? Was this how it was supposed to be, forever hating opposing clans while they were hired to fight them, never finding peace? He had no time to think on the subject further as he was suddenly pushed back against the trunk of a tree. He shut his eyes at the force, and when he opened them, he saw Hashirama standing in front of him. Even though they were of equal height at the time, it appeared to Madara that the Senju was the taller.

"What do you want?" he said angrily, not liking being pushed into a corner. He began to peel himself off the tree and attempted to land a punch on the other boy's face.

Hashirama caught the fist aimed at his face with ease, and held it in the air beside him. "I want to talk with you."

"About what? The lovely weather we've been having?—"

The boy's eyebrows rose. "Oh, you've noticed it, too? The past few days have been so nice, but today it got cold again—"

Madara scowled, and looked to the side. "Stop it, Senju. This is no time to try to bond with me as my _friend_." He noticed Hashirama stop his banter, and both pairs of dark eyes met equally. "We are enemies now." He narrowed his eyes. "We've _been_ enemies."

Not the least bit relaxed at seeing Madara deactivate his Sharingan, he continued to speak. "Do you...remember what we used to talk about? Back in the day?"

"I said stop it, Hashirama! All of that talk...was nothing but bullshit. Look at what our families are doing now!"

He frowned, hurt. That was obvious enough. "Yes, I know! My clan is being killed by yours!"

"And mine is being killed by _yours!_ "

"..." They stared at each other harshly...an expression that only close brothers could understand.

_Brother...?_

"...And so? What are we doing, now? Madara." Hashirama felt a chilly breeze cool his head; his headband, soaked with sweat, became cold, and goosebumps rose all over his body at the airy sensation. He unconsciously gripped Madara's fist a little tighter at the cold feeling.

The Uchiha felt the grip around his hand tighten, and took it in offense. " _We_...are not doing _anything_."

Not really listening, Hashirama let his mind slide back in time. He was remembering...

—- —- —-

 _'Adults are idiots_ ,' Tobirama had said bluntly. ' _If we want to put an end to this senseless killing, we should just make a truce._ '

' _But how can we form a truce? What about our own comrades who got killed? Neither side will be able to forgive the other_ ,' Itama had responded. _'There will always be retribution.'_

' _Keeping talking like that and we'll be burying you real soon_ ,' Tobirama had scolded gravely. ' _There will never be any peace if both sides keep on seeking vengeance. You and the adults are becoming too passionate. What we need to do is repress our emotions, and set in place some rules. Only then will we be able to avoid all this useless fighting._ '

—- —- —-

Hashirama looked into his old friend's deep, dark eyes and searched them earnestly, ready to speak just as bluntly. "Madara...I think we should talk to our clans about making a truce."

"..." His former friend was silent for a moment while he recalled the conversation he'd had with his younger brother just last year.

—- —- —-

 _'You should have_ heard _the ridiculous things that Tobirama said to me, today. He's decided he wants a truce,'_ Izuna had said. ' _Can you believe that, big brother?_ ' After some silence, Izuna then stared at him suspiciously. '... _Has his brother talked to you, as well?_ '

Madara shook his head. Hashirama? ' _No._ '

_'If he does, brother...don't listen to him. Mother told me that she once tried the same thing when she was younger, with Tobirama's uncle...they had secretly been friends! But then...the Senju double-crossed her!'_

This had surprised Madara. ' _What?_ '

 _'She was telling me stories...a little before she died...'_ Izuna had returned his piercing black eyes at him, looking him seriously. _'That's why I know I can't believe Tobirama. The Senju clan_ cannot _be trusted,'_ he finished strongly.

—- —- —-

Returning from his memories, Madara broke the short silence, and spoke blandly. "Do not speak to me of such useless things." He pulled his hand back from him.

This shocked the Senju, and made him furious. " _It's not useless!_ My brothers _died_ thinking we could maybe have some peace in this godforsaken world of shinobi!"

Madara met his friend's sorrowed gaze, seeing the tears that must be stinging his eyes, and felt his own spirits sink low. Did Hashirama actually think he wanted any part of this? This was life! There was no other way. He felt the presence in front of him rage with a burning fire of hope.

He wanted to reach out and touch his face, and tell him that this was all pointless, and that they should not be standing here, hiding from the others, doing nothing but drowning themselves in such...idle chatter.

_If only he could tell him..._

He decided not to speak the other half of his mind. "Hashirama...it is an impossible dream," he said finally, leaning in close, leaving almost no space between them. "Don't try to drag me into this nonsense, again..."

The young Senju stared intensely at his friend, unaware of the effect he was having on the Uchiha. "Well, when you change your mind, you know where to find me..." But Madara slipped away from him, just as easily as the other times Hashirama had tried to get a moment like this with him.

"I won't give up," he asserted again firmly, with not only his mouth but his eyes, the fire in them unwilling to falter at his friend's words. He watched, helpless, as his friend walked away and spoke once more:

"For now, I will leave you...and while I may know where to find you, I do suggest that you do not try to find _me_."

Madara let the cold words dangle icily in the air as he left, not letting his heartbreak ever be known to this...hopelessly kind Senju.

 _He...does not want to be reached..._ Hashirama closed his eyes as he felt the cold wind caress his face, unable to tell whether nature offered the gesture in comfort or hurtful finality. He shivered, and opened his eyes. _I will reach you someday._

_That is a promise._

—-

* * *

That night, another Senju had a tough time sleeping.

—-

 _'Adults are idiots_ ,' he says plainly. ' _If we want to put an end to this senseless killing, we should just make a truce._ '

' _But how can we form a truce? What about our own comrades who got killed? Neither side will be able to forgive the other_ ,' Itama says back thoughtfully.

He glares at him. ' _Keeping talking like that and we'll be burying you real soon_ ,' he scolds gravely. ' _There will never be any peace if both sides keep on seeking vengeance. You and the adults are becoming too passionate. What we need to do is repress our emotions, and set in place some rules. Only then will be be able to avoid all this useless fighting._ '

—-

_"Itama!"_

_"No..." Hashirama falls to his knees beside the young boy. "No, no..."_

_Tobirama stands beside the two. His face is a silent mixture or grief, and disbelief. After a few minutes of grieving, he places a hand on Hashirama's shoulder. "Anija, we need to leave..."_

_Suddenly, something doesn't feel right. He gazes at Itama's corpse, and then back at his three family members who'd arrived with him at the field. And then he realizes._

_He hadn't been there. He_ wasn't. There.

—-

He awoke, gasping. The boy sat up, and stared at the wall in front of him, sweat covering his face and hair. _Stupid dream..._

He got up and quietly exited the Senju home for the second time that night, hoping the cold, punishing winter air would stop this foolishness that had been plaguing him these past few years. He found an even colder spot on the ground outside their home, and then sat on it, attempting to meditate or whatever it was that Hashirama had been trying to get him to do. So he tried; but all that kept blocking his mind was Itama, and what he had said to him just weeks before his death.

And then...Hashirama.

—-

_He can see that he is very upset; so is he._

_"How could you say something like that to him? Who says things like that?! And now look, we've already buried him!" Tears fall down from Hashirama's eyes._

_He can't feel anything but guilt. He only stares back at his brother's face, trying not to look bothered by his words._

_"Why don't you say anything, now? Or are you going to tell me that I can't mourn his death, either, and that I'll end up just like him! Am I becoming too passionate, Tobirama? Is that wrong?"_

_He cannot come up with a reply. He does not want to. He has nothing to say, and only wants to break down into tears, and be forgiven for his inconsideration. He wishes to be surrouded by Kawarama, Itama, and Hashirama, just sitting together like they used to. Training together like they used to. Having fun like they used to. Just being brothers._

_But that cannot happen; Kawarama is dead. And now, so is Itama._

_Tobirama keeps a straight face as he is subjected to Hashirama's distress._

_"You should really learn to be nice! Have some_ feelings _, for once! Itama is_ dead _and you have not shed a single tear!" He stares at him hard. Frustrated and unable to stay any longer, he turns his back on him._

_His only brother can only stand there, and when Hashirama turns and leaves, the tears come; and they do not stop. He cries, alone._

—-

A few, quiet minutes of reflection went by when he suddenly became startled by a person standing beside him. He looked up to meet his father's dark eyes.

"What are you doing out here, boy?" his deep voice asked, sounding annoyed and concerned at the same time.

"I can't sleep, father," he said bluntly, returning his gaze in front of him, halfheartedly studying the numerous trees in the forest several hundred yards in front.

"I mean, what is with that position you're in?" he questioned, staring down at Tobirama's crossed legs and overall calm posture. That boy wasn't one for sitting look so relaxed and all that nonsense. In fact, he couldn't recall a time when this boy—his wife's doppelganger, he liked to think affectionately—wasn't standing around with his arms crossed, tagging along with Hashirama wherever he went.

Tobirama and his older brother...they were like mother and son to each other, almost; except, their roles would continuously reverse. Tobirama would follow him like a lost duckling, but when Hashirama needed his head on straight—and _several_ times he did, that boy!— then Tobirama would step up and hold him back, at the same time preventing himself—their own _father_ —from knocking some real sense into him, into that constantly daydreaming genius son of his.

"It is a form of meditation; Hashirama thought I could benefit from it. But so far," he said, mumbling softly, "it's not working at all."

"...And is there a reason why you're meditating out here, in this cold temperature, and at this time of night?"

"I can't sleep," he repeated simply.

His father shook his head. "Ah, well..." he said, turning around, and then stopping. Hashirama was leaning against the doorway of their home just a few yards in front of them. He sighed. "I will be going back inside; however...I believe your brother wishes to say something to you." He turned away from his youngest son and stepped back inside their home, moving past his eldest without a word. Once inside, he watched Hashirama exit the doorway and make his way beside his brother, looking down at him with a soft, kind expression.

Butsuma almost envied the look Hashirama was giving him. His mind temporarily slipped into the past. How he missed his own brother and sister... His older sister would give him that exact same look when he himself had been troubled as a boy. The Senju closed his eyes in pain at their memory, and left the brothers alone.

—-

* * *

"Whatcha doing, little bro?" Hashirama plopped a hand onto the boy's head.

The ninja in question looked up at him. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Trying out that meditation technique I taught you.." He saw him begin to nod his head grudgingly and added, "...And failing it completely." He received a dirty look. "Aha, just relax, Tobi-chan!"

"That's what I've been trying to do," he muttered. "And quit calling me that!"

"Anyway, seriously, it's cold out here." He shivered and sat on the cold ground, huddling next to Tobirama...or at least trying to. "Aren't you cold? Look, the plants are certainly freezing!" he said, pointing to various frosted-covered plants nearby. "And it's really late. Or...really early. I can't tell."

"Go back to sleep, anija," he responded plainly. _Why does everyone want to bother me when I just want to be alone?_

"Well, I can't just leave you alone out here, you know."

 _Iiiii!_ Tobirama turned his head to his left and glared at his brother's face, which was just inches away. "Since when can you read minds?"

He raised his eyebrows, causing a few nearby dark brown strands of hair to fall beside his eyes. "It's not that hard to read yours. Obviously you want to be alone, that's why you snuck out and are now sitting here, trying to kill yourself in this damn. Cold. Air," he finished, teeth finally beginning to chatter.

Tobirama finally began to shiver, too, and brought his knees up to his face, crossing his arms over them and then letting his chin rest on them. "So is there a reason you have come here? If you know I want to be here by myself."

"Because I know you've been having nightmares again," he said sharply, quietly. He flicked the side of Tobirama's head.

He turned back to him. It was no use lying. "Every year, no big deal. All the time."

A moment of silence passed. "...I remember what you said to Itama that time."

Tobirama's eyes narrowed at the ground.

"...And I'm sorry for what I said...after that." He remembered after Itama had died, but before he went to see Madara, he'd confronted Tobirama, hurt and angry. "'You are becoming too passionate. Keep talking like that and we'll be burying you real soon'...is what you said."

"And that is exactly what happened..."

"But not for the reason that you think. Itama _had_ gotten upset over Kawarama's death, and he was letting it get the best of him...but father and uncle talked to him a week later..." Receiving a curious look, he tried to guess what Tobirama must be thinking: 'Then why were you so angry with me if that's not what happened?' He continued, "Actually, I didn't know...I found out sometime later that Itama received a lecture from them..." He gazed down. "I shouldn't have been angry with you. Itama's death had nothing to do with his anger and feelings over Kawarama...

"I'm sorry."

Tobirama met his eyes. "Why do you apologize? You were angry, and that was fine...you should not have to apologize for having feelings."

"Yes, but my feelings were out of line. You were not to blame. What I said those years ago...must have been hard to hear..." His heart felt heavy. If it had Tobirama who had told him such things...he didn't think could've taken it. "Hearing such words...must have been painful..." Hashirama knew if they'd been directed at him, he wouldn't be able to sleep, either...maybe not ever.

Tobirama observed his older brother. _He really feels sorry for such a trivial thing..._ But even for such a trivial thing, Tobirama noticed, his heart felt lighter, as if he'd just been released from a huge burden; and for such a trivial thing, Hashirama was sure feeling sorry about his actions. It was beginning to become clear that this conversation had indeed been good for the both of them. He slowly let Hashirama lean onto him, finally, letting his head of long hair rest against his shoulder. "Itama was...very wise...understanding the cycle of hatred in this world at such an age..."

Hashirama was quiet for several moments. After thinking for a while about their lost siblings, Tobirama began to wonder if his big brother had fallen asleep. So he shifted, causing the boy the stir a bit. No, not asleep. "What are you thinking about?"

Silence.

"I fought with Madara again, today..."

Tobirama turned his head at the sudden change in topic. "Really? Is he dead?"

"..." His brother flicked him again. "So damn _blunt_ , you! Argh." And then again.

"So did you?" Another flick. "Ow!"

"NO...God, Tobirama...I wouldn't kill him," he said, only then realizing the implications of his statement once he'd spoken it aloud.

"..." He continued to look at him curiously...almost...suspiciously...? "Why not? If he tried to kill you, would you not do the same?"

Hashirama thought for a moment. "Actually..." He placed his left hand over his eyes. "That's the thing...I don't think he was trying to. Over the years, whenever we've met...and fought...it feels like he's become less and less antagonistic towards me."

His younger brother noticed the face in front of him start to turn a certain shade of red. "Come on, let's go inside...I know you can't really handle the cold as well as you think you can..." He stood up and pulled him up, as well.

Now it was Hashirama's turn to look at him curiously.

As they walked back to the house, Tobirama said softly, "Just don't do anything stupid. He's our enemy—on the battlefield, off the battlefield. It's no use getting close to someone when either of you may not be alive the next day because of one another...especially when the other might not feel the same way about you..." he added in an even quieter voice, completely going unnoticed by the hopelessly oblivious Hashirama.

"He is my _friend_ , Tobirama...I can't just kill him, and I don't think he wants to kill me, either. So...we're okay. I think." He received a doubtful look, and lowered his voice further once they stepped into the warmer air of their home. "So really, don't worry about it. And...I didn't just fight with him—we also talked."

Tobirama noticed Hashirama's face start to glow. " _About_...?"

He could barely contain his whispering. "A truce!"

"...A _truce?_ " He blinked. "Anija, have you gone _mad?_ "

Hashirama stood there, shocked. "What do you mean?" he asked. _'We should just make a truce...only then will we be able to avoid all this useless fighting.'_ " _You're_ the one that came up with the idea in the first place! What's wrong with it now?"

"For starters, what was wrong with it _before?_ What makes you think any clan—forget about the _Uchiha—_ what makes you think any clan would agree to such a thing?" The two Uchiha flashed through his mind.

"What makes you think they _wouldn't_?" He studied his brother's expressionless face. Still, something was there; he could see it. "You...talked with his brother, didn't you? Izuna." Still the same pokerface. He thought for a brief moment in amusement that if he, Tobirama, and Madara were to ever play against each other in poker, he'd definitely lose; he wasn't sure who'd win, though...

"Yes. I did. Once..." he replied carefully.

"When...?" he asked, not sure what surprised him the most—the fact that Tobirama had (instead of simply murdering him) actually talked to _Uchiha Izuna_ about it, or that he was actually admitting to doing so...

"...Last year."

" _Last year!_ Tobi! Why didn't you tell me...?!"

"It wouldn't have made a difference! They wanted no part of it," he said, crossing his arms.

"And so you...just... _gave up?_ " ...' _They'?_ he wondered. _  
_

He gazed at him levelly. "For now..."

Hashirama raised an eyebrow. "No, not for now. _Now_ , ...we try again." He let his firm words linger in the warm air for a moment. And then, suddenly remembering, he looked into Tobirama's eyes and grabbed his arm—who eyed the hand on his arm in annoyance before returning his dark-eyed gaze to his older brother's curiously smug face—and began to whisper, barely able to contain his excitement. "Also, Tobirama...there is something I need to show you..."

—-

They reached the edge of where the Senju residence ended and where the forest began, and stood in the clearest patch of the ground, where it was rid of all visible plant life and the area surrounding their feet consisted of nothing but cool, damp, snow-sprinkled dirt.

"What? What is it already?" the boy demanded as he squinted through the sun's orange rays, wondering what his brother could possibly be showing him at this early hour of the morning.

Hashirama looked at him with the eagerness of a young child. "Look carefully, Tobirama!" he said while bringing his hands together slowly. Ignoring his body's incessant shivering, he closed his eyes and gathered his chakra; over the next several seconds, a small growth of something plant-like sprouted from the cold dirt in front of the boy.

Tobirama met hs brother's childlike eagerness equally. His eyebrows hit the roof. "Cool!" he exclaimed. He bent down, kneeling onto the snowy dirt and gently touched the new plant. He stared at it in awe. Soon enough, though, a conflicting thought dawned upon him. "...This would be quite useful in battle..."

Hashirama sighed. "Mind always on the battlefield..."

He stood up suddenly. "Did you show father?"

"No, not yet..." He gently lowered an eyebrow upon hearing the odd question.

"Don't," he said firmly.

"But?—"

"This jutsu...is this a jutsu? It looks more like a kekkei genkai...you know, like the Yuki clan with the Ice Release... Anija!" he suddenly exclaimed. "You _do_ have a kekkei genkai! You have both doton and suiton ability, yes? And so when you combine those two..."

"You get...plants," Hashirama finished for him brightly. "Small trees! A wooden form of life...mokuton."

"..."

Hashirama was nearly jumping up and down. "Aw man, just wait 'til I show—"

"Hashirama!"

He turned. "What?"

"This ability will most likely be very useful for war..." He saw his brother frown lightly at him. "I don't want that to happen. If anything, you now possess a greater skill in your quest to settle a truce with the Uchiha and all the other clans. _This ability will probably hail him as a very powerful ninja... and he will also gain many enemies from this, just as others with kekkei genkai do._

A flicker of grave reality crossed his face. _I'll make sure no one gets in his way._

"But I can't even do that much with it right now..."

"That's okay! We'll train," Tobirama said easily, lightening up. His old bright self prior to their siblings' deaths had seemingly decided to show itself, much to Hashirama's content. "Just like we did before!"

Hashirama smiled warmly. He hadn't seen his little brother so excited about training in such a long time. "Okay, but this jutsu really is a long ways off from being fully effective...I need to work on it...a lot." He plopped a hand heavily onto the boy's shoulder. "Better rest up, Tobirama! We are going to train like _hell_ tomorrow. Who knows, if our powers advance so greatly, we could lose control of them and might even end up killing each other!"

"Heh?" He sighed at his brother's relentlessly eager behavior. "...Don't get that ahead of yourself, anija. Plus I think it would be rather useless if we ended up dying...Man..." He rubbed his eyes. "Also..." he yawned, "It _is_ tomorrow."

Hashirama yawned, too. "Okay...we'll go rest for a bit, then. And soon—"

"Yes..."

"—We will—"

"I know..."

Hashirama bent his knee forward and looked up to meet his brother's surprised gaze. "—Bring _peace_ to this damned world of shinobi," he finished. He gave him a determined scowl. "If I can't make sure of that, then my _wood_ will!"

"...A wooden will," he commented softly, in distant comprehension.

"My will may be strong as wood, but it burns like a fire." He saw his brother smile one of his rare smiles. "Does yours?"

Tobirama raised his eyebrows earnestly. "I'm still standing here, aren't I?"

The elder Senju placed his hands on his hips and looked off to the side. The cold he'd felt all morning was nothing compared to the warmth that was now radiating from his soul. He breathed deeply. "Now all we need to do is get Madara to stand here, too..."

Tobirama softly raised an eyebrow in subtle agreement. "And everyone else..."

"We'll stand together! All of us...!" He raised his arms into the air before letting them fall at his side contentedly. "Tobirama..." He placed a hand onto his tan forehead and smiled at the ground. "One day, I _will_ unite the clans...and I want to make sure you and Madara are with me, too. Promise me that neither of you will die before that happens."

"Anija..." He sighed. "I can't say anything about that. For Madara, especially. Right now we are still—"

" _Promise me_ , Tobirama." His dark, pleading eyes met his urgently.

"Well, after almost fourteen years, I have not died yet... I suppose the likelihood for my death in battle continues to decrease as time passes." He returned his look. "The same is true for Madara. Don't worry about him," he said, waving him off, feeling only slightly bothered. "If possible, I'll try not to engage him if I see him again...or Izuna." He saw a flicker of approval cross his older brother's face, and responded accordingly. "But brother..."

He looked at him curiously. "...?"

"Do not hand over your trust completely to him. I did not openly offer my own, when I first approached Izuna that day. Be careful. He may have been your friend, once, but—"

"Don't worry about it, Tobirama," he said, also brushing him off, feeling slightly bothered, just as his brother did. "And if anything happens, you've got my back, right?"

"Is that even a question?" He crossed his arms and looked at the ground near the trees, and soon began to drift off into a haze of deep thought.

"...No," he finally answered, breaking himself off from his own long moment of thinking. Bringing his gaze up to the sky, he slowly smiled. "...I can't wait...until that day... Where everything finally comes together..." True happiness, true love...

True peace...

—-


	2. Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I've been getting ideas for a sequel to this story...except this one just started?! Anyway, I am almost never satisfied with what I write, so you'll probably notice some tiny edits later on.
> 
> Thank youuu QueenPotatos for helping out with my title/summary!

—-

Warm, tanned hand grasped cool, pale hand. Warm, hot air wafted in with swift assuredness, and in response, the coolness of the clouds' shadows wandered away, leaving the dozens of shinobi, and even more dozens of civilians – all standing on other side of the two clan heads, who were now shaking hands in the assured gesture of peace – feeling their spirits rise at the sensation, in an exciting and jaded mixture of relief and wariness. Tensions were high as the two hands slowly released each other, softly returning to their owners' sides.

The Senju, of course, was the first to speak. "Well, Madara...it looks like there is hope, after all..." He gave the other a solemn smile, and tried desperately to hide the hopefulness he felt so strongly in his presence.

The Uchiha across from him was silent for a moment. When he decided to speak, whispers were already arising from within either side, full of anticipation, regarding what the clan head might say in reply. So he finally spoke blandly, "Your wish has come true, at last, Senju Hashirama."

An eyebrow quirked at the plain statement. "Our wish," he corrected him smoothly, underneath the ever-rising banter from their clans. "Our dream." A smile began to form. "Madara...this is only just the beginning." Carefully holding the other's gaze, he observed the softening features of his old friend. Or was he just imagining it?

—- —- —-

**o0o0o XxXxXxXxX o0o0o**

—- —- —-

Every other week, the heads of each shinobi clan that had agreed to cease their relentless fighting would gather on a predetermined date to discuss how they would go about building upon their roughly designed settlement. This day marked the third of these rare and previously _unimaginable_ gatherings—and just a few hours into this joint discussion, one shinobi found himself...dreaming.

_'Why...? You can't-'_

_'It's okay...brother...'_

... _Izuna!_ The clan head opened his eyes upon hearing his name. "What?" He looked around him. Oh. Drifting off in the middle of this...thing. Meeting—yes...an excellent time for a nap.

"Are you listening, ani?" the woman whispered, flicking him on his shoulder.

He turned his head. "What?" He stared at his younger clan member, not letting his curiosity at the gesture be shown. "What is it, Kyoko?"

"Senju Hashirama-sama was speaking just now. He mentioned your name...and several other people have mentioned you, too. But you only paid attention just now..." Her eyes moved to the rough hand that brought her shoulder-length hair beside her face. "If you like my hair so much, try taking care of your own," she said with a frown and a lopsided smile. "You certainly can't have mine."

"Hah...okay," he mumbled, bringing himself back into the present. He looked around him once more, and suddenly felt eyes watching him. So he scanned each face, not bothering to pay attention to who was talking at the moment...and soon he found them. Among the many eyes around him, only one pair was staring directly at him— _Hashirama_. He sighed; he knew he would be getting a lecture from the man once this was over. It had been the Senju's voice that had awoken him from his temporary slumber, but now another supposedly important member of the group was speaking, filling the air with his slow, droning voice.

_What nonsense..._

Madara's eyes drifted over to the person a few seats beside the speaker, and saw Tobirama; he nearly smirked. The man looked like he did not want to be here any more than he did, himself. He could see the Senju's eyelids becoming heavy with sleep, and felt only slightly relieved that he was not the only one feeling so bored out of his mind. Hoping that Hashirama was still looking at him, he tried to catch his gaze; alas, the powerful gaze of his old friend was no longer on him, and was now set directly at the man speaking. It took nearly all of the Uchiha's power to prevent himself from scoffing. How could Hashirama be so interested in what that man had to say? The old man could hardly finish a sentence without expanding on it with unnecessary details—Madara wasn't even sure what the topic of discussion even was, anymore.

"And once we have done that...I mean to say, that once we have let all of us move closer together, in a nice, tight circle...this idea of yours is great, Senju-dono, I must repeat this again...then we should plan to have this nice, large settlement of ours on the far corner from the huge mountain range over there..." he pointed to the right, to illustrate his point. "Also, I feel obligated to say that, when I speak for myself, I am truly speaking for the rest of my clan, and by that, I imply that I speak for _all_ the clans, and so then, let me explain that as we meet here, today, there some things...many things...that need to be promptly addressed..."

Madara couldn't help himself—he audibly smirked; he'd just seen Tobirama's head suddenly droop, and watched him blink several times as he tried to wake himself back up. _Damned fool._

To his utter dismay, a few heads near him suddenly turned at the noise, wearing a look upon their faces that said—

"Are you enjoying yourself, Uchiha-dono?" a man beside him whispered to him fiercely. "Please pay attention! So far I have not heard a single contribution from you. So unless you don't want your high and mighty clan to be represente—"

"Shut up," he whispered back just as fiercely. "I've had it with you all. Don't know how to spit out a single, coherent idea and get it over with..." he muttered. The look he received back was one of pure astonishment—how dare this Uchiha speak to the Hyuuga clan head like that!

Hashirama's attention removed itself away from the old man's continuing speech.

The Hyuuga's pale eyes narrowed at the disrespectful man beside him. "I don't even see how you were picked as the head of your clan! You have the immaturity of a _child_." Why did he have to sit next to _him_ , of all people?

Madara's eyes narrowed right back at the shinobi. The verbal blow was meant to be personal, and unfortunately for the Hyuuga, it had indeed been a direct hit. He grabbed the clan head by the collar, pulling themselves both up and out of their seats. He was met with an activated Byakugan staring back up at him. "Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that, you Hyuuga piece of trash," he spat.

Neither bothered to disguise the volume in their voices. "I suppose you will try to get even with me, now; however, I'd advise against it. Your clan has always underestimated the power of mine...and you have paid dearly for it in the past." His reprimanding voice was heavy with censure as he continued, "Do not make the same mistake. Unless you still haven't learned—" He was abruptly cut off with a punch to the jaw. " _Oof!_ "

The Hyuuga fell back a few steps, landing on two other shinobi behind him, who had been sitting in their chairs with due regard, respectfully listening to the droning speech of the Shimura clan head. Upon being forced to be the net to catch the man that fell over them, however, they stood up in outrage.

"Hyuuga-dono! What is the meaning of this?"

He stood back from the two, glaring daggers at them before returning his infuriated gaze to the one who had placed him there. "Why don't you ask the Uchiha head? I'm sure he would like to pick a fight with the lot of you." He shoved Madara, who fell back a few steps, and subsequently bumped into his partner. "Even sleeping during the meeting! Have you no shame?"

Tobirama scowled. Madara was a given, of course...but man, he really hated that guy. _Hyuuga..._ His eyes met with his older brother's for a moment, before he received a curt nod. He stood up dutifully. As one of the few members in the meeting who were not clan heads, his job was to...

"Hyuuga-sama!" Kyoko stood up as well, angered at the shove.

...Maintain the peace.

Thoroughly exhausted with the dullness of the meeting and her family member's immature antics, she pulled him aside. "Ignore him. Why do you get so worked up over such _trivial_ things?" she said, looking up into his cold, black eyes.

He looked away, not wanting to misdirect his anger and have it fall upon the young kunoichi, by mistake. He removed her hand from his arm. "Leave me be, Kyoko."

The Shimura head finally turned his attention to the scuffle happening several meters down to his left. "Trivial thing?" his deep voice asked. "I suppose once you become clan head—which will be never, young lady, _mind you_ —then I suppose you, too, would find it a great insult to be referred to as nothing more than a 'trivial _thing_ '!" His sharp words were dulled by the manner in which he spoke, to which Hashirama could only bring his hand up to his forehead in response.

Tobirama stood between the Hyuuga and Uchiha heads, giving them both sharp looks. "Hyuuga Hiroto-sama, Uchiha Madara-sama. Please rejoin the discussion in a civil manner, or else I will be forced to ask you to leave."

The Hyuuga averted his gaze from the Senju, and then let it linger on the interrupted speaker in redress. "Shimura Nobu-dono...my apologies." His hands fell at his side before proceeding to sit back down again.

A small, wry grin crept upon Madara's lips as he stepped away from Kyoko and moved closer to the white-haired Senju. "I'm sure _you_ were enjoying the discussion so much, so why don't you just return back to your seat?" he suggested in a hushed tone.

Gazing at him steadily, Tobirama stepped even closer to him, and started in an equally low voice, "Madara..." He stopped, noticing another presence in his blind spot. He turned his head and looked down at the younger Uchiha. "...?"

"Back off," she said murderously, staring at him face to face. Neither batted an eye. "I can take care of my own, thank you very much." She tightened her grip on Madara's arm, fully intent on leaving after this glaring deathmatch.

Tobirama let his eyes linger on the kunoichi for a few tense seconds before he finally relented. "Take care, then," he said simply.

It was Hashirama's turn to look around him—everyone was quite exhausted, indeed. "...Okay, then." His loud voice spread over the airy room. "I think we've discussed enough..." He stood up, letting his hands rest heavily upon the large wooden table. "Thank you all for convening here, today. ...You are dismissed."

And just like that, without having any sort of established authority, Senju Hashirama's words had rung over their heads like a true command; the shinobi immediately stood up and proceeded to leave the large room. A huge release of tension seemed to spill out from everybody. Still using his chakra from before as he'd kept a look out for intruders, Tobirama could feel the aura in the room lighten considerably. He closed his eyes and took a breath. It was like a thick, heavy blanket being lifted off of one suffocating in the heat of the desert.

"Hah..." Still leaning on the table, Hashirama sighed, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them, almost everyone had gone. "Tobirama, Uchiha-san..." He gazed at them, signaling with his eyes for them to both leave.

They obeyed. However, as they both turned to exit the room, the kunoichi found the other in her way.

"What do you want, Senju?"

"You and I need to talk."

"Fine," she said, lowering her dark eyelashes. "Let's take it outside."

The Senju silently complied—he took her by the arm and led themselves out.

Once they were outside, Kyoko leaned against the side of the long building. "What is it, Tobirama?" she asked, folding her arms.

"You need to keep a better hold on Madara," he warned, moving away from her. "I can't have him interrupting important meetings like this." He continued to walk around in front of her, going in no particular direction each time he crossed her eyes.

She watched him carefully as he moved. "Oh, please. This all started because you fell asleep!"

"For two seconds!" His lip jutted out slightly. "And I didn't ask Madara to keep an eye on me. I'm not here for his entertainment. That meeting was boring as hell!"

"I know it was! Shimura couldn't keep his mouth shut!" She blew her shoulder-length hair out of her face.

"And neither could the Hyuuga! Dammit," he said, crossing his arms, as well. He eventually leaned against the wall of the building, beside her. "This is only the third full meeting we've had so far."

"And they seem to be less and less productive each time..." Her mind wandered to the fight that had broken out. Madara had been reckless, she knew, but the response he'd invoked had been uncalled for.

"Yeah..."

She shot him a look. "...Stop agreeing with me." She mentally kicked herself; that, too, had been uncalled for. She was moody right now, but why?

"Is that a crime?" Tobirama lifted a hand off from crossed arms in disbelief.

"For you, it is..." She scowled at him. "Unless you've forgotten who I am," she said, now realizing that she was still upset over the Hyuuga's actions to her dear older brother figure. "...Uchiha hater." There seemed to be a secret, ever-present bias against her clan, and it came especially strong from Senju; Tobirama was a Senju, himself, and on multiple occasions had seemed to express his own disdain for it, as well.

He frowned, as well. "I don't hate you..."

But his words meant nothing in the face of the truth. "Is it any less different if you only hate my family? I _am_ my family," she said harshly, before picking herself off the wall and staring at him, hard. "Know that, _Senju_." And with that, she left.

"..." Feeling bothered by her words, Tobirama watched her as she moved away, leaving him there alone for several minutes. Then he looked down at the ground, thinking he should do the same—after all, he'd need the time to go and cook something really good once Hashirama returned home in the foul mood he'd just witnessed moments earlier.

Or...he could make _Toka_ do it, he thought, smiling dryly. Yes. She he was the perfect one for the job. Feeling somewhat liberated after such a dreary week—while pushing away the heavy words he'd heard just moments earlier—he walked away from the area in lightened spirits, laughing to himself at little nothings on the way.

— _-_

* * *

Once they were out, Madara turned. "See! This is what you Senju do. You think you can just drag people along, and control them, like some kind of puppet." But this is what the man was known to do – Senju or not, he had a very dominating and persuasive nature; Madara briefly mused that if one of the tailed beasts were to appear and subsequently decide to wreak havoc on their new settlement, Hashirama could probably talk them out of it.

As he thought, Hashirama looked at him carefully, taking in his long, spiky hair, sturdy frame, dark eyes set so intensely on him...

He did not want to say what he did— "Madara, you and I need to talk." —After all, there was something else completely that was on his mind at that very moment...just to grab him by the shoulders and assert his desire for him over and over until Madara finally relented and confessed that he, too, felt strongly about him...finally telling him—

"I don't think so."

He tried not to frown. "Whether you want to or not, we're doing it."

"The hell we do!"

Hashirama noticed the parallel in which the other two shinobi before them had acted similarly before their exit— except, in this case, the Uchiha was not open for further discussion. He walked over to where his friend stood. "What the _hell_ was that about, Madara?"

He gave him a look— _that_ look, the one he'd given him hundreds of times before, in the past— that said 'I don't have to explain anything to you.'

"All of this...is counterproductive—last time we held a meeting, you almost blew up. And this time, you did." He moved closer. "Is something the matter...?"

Madara was startled—Hashirama was showing _concern_...usually the man was too oblivious to notice anything. The expression on his own face, however, remained unchanged—that is, until Hashirama brought his hand up and placed it on his shoulder. He felt his eyes narrow at the touch; it _tingled_.

"Nothing is the matter, Hashirama. Now leave me alone."

He sighed. "But that's the thing. You're _always_ alone." Staring at him carefully, he knew the words had hit home—Madara tensed, if only ever-so-slightly.

"Is that a problem?" he shot back. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have paid the statement any attention. But this was Hashirama, and the fact that he was being told such a thing by _him_ of all people...made him suddenly feel all too aware of his deep feelings and inner loneliness.

Feeling slightly hurt at the remark, Hashirama said, "Not for me." The words fell off his lips like the poisonous lie it was. It felt disgusting. But to reveal the truth would be far more painful, if it meant that— "...You have no regard for me?" he found himself finally asking, after waiting for—but not receiving—the affirming reaction from the person he wanted so badly to keep all to himself.

Madara frowned, but it was at something else entirely. _That isn't true..._ Yet, unable to express his secretly shared feelings, he, too, found himself refuting the truth in his heart; thus, he said, "I don't exist to please you. Or are you suggesting that I change my manner of speaking around you, to accommodate your—"

"You already do," he said softly, in a low voice. He watched recognition flicker across Madara's eyes. Upon seeing this minor revelation of truth, he let out a shallow breath, feeling the first signs of relief begin to tickle his stomach...but only _teasingly_. Was there more to his dark-eyed gaze, after all...?

Madara felt the hand on his shoulder decrease in pressure, realizing Hashirama was no longer feeling so tense anymore. "You should go home. Get some rest," he said dismissively, trying to change the subject. "The next few weeks will be intense with the construction. I know you are highly prized when it comes to that sort of work."

"Feeling jealous, Madara?" He smirked lightheartedly. That recognition he'd seen was more than enough—and it gave him the confidence to be his...confident self, again. "I know how much you like to create things."

"Not creating _buildings_." He raised his eyebrows at him. "Such a thing would bore me beyond belief..." he said, letting his eyes wander at the wall, not wanting to be taken by Hashirama's childishly happy gaze. Suddenly he felt his chin being lifted slightly, and found himself looking right into the Senju's eyes— _dammit_. Now his chin was tingling...

Did Hashirama have any idea what he was _doing_ to him...? No wonder the man had never landed a date yet... So oblivious to everything and everyone, making small, yet _inviting_ gestures, flirting here and there...and then...

That would be it. The women would simply be left behind, and he'd leave the social gathering without a single thought to what might be going on in their minds. _Hashirama..._ He searched that dark brown gaze hopelessly, praying his search would not be noticed by the ever-imperceptive Senju. _Do you know what's going on in_ my _mind...?_

"I can show you how much fun it'll be," he said with a wink, and then let go of Madara's chin, just like that.

"How much...what?" he asked, completely forgetting what they had been talking about.

Hashirama chuckled at the look in his best friend's eyes. _It's... He went...completely blank..._ "Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?" he asked simply. "I have received news that I think you may like."

"...?" Unaware of the blank look in his own eyes, Madara could only guess at what this news could be. "Why don't you just tell me now?"

"Because! Then I have no reason to ask you over," he reasoned bluntly, raising his eyebrows. "Don't you want it to remain a surprise? Or...do you not want to come over tonight?" he asked, deeply hoping it wasn't the latter.

"I...don't really care about the other members of your family, Hashirama..." he said—unbeknownst to him, with an astounding similarity to Tobirama, regarding his own clan. Madara then saw the look in his friend's eyes change, and suddenly regretted his words. Dammit! Why couldn't anything he was saying come out right?! "I mean... can you and I not just...talk?"

"And eat?"

"And eat," he agreed reassuringly, in an unusually uncharacteristic tone, which surprised even Hashirama. "But—"

"I don't want to exclude my family, Madara," he said, knitting his eyebrows together. "...How about dinner with just four, then?"

"Four?" The number was _three_ too many...

"Well, three, and then there's you."

"Oh." Well, that was one less... He thought about it for a while, and was very tempted to say no. So he opened his mouth and—

"Come on! I promise Tobirama won't bite."

... _Of course Tobirama has to be there._ Then again, the two were brothers, and it's not like he'd invite Hashirama over without Izuna...

Izuna...

"Okay...fine," he finally said. He watched the Senju's smile widen in approval – and with that, he felt his gut now tingle in response. Tingling, tingling...tingling all over the place! How could something like a _smile_ do such a thing to the great Uchiha _Madara_?

"Alright, then! Dinner at the Senju residence, tonight it is!"

Madara felt like hitting his head against the wall behind him. The questions pounded in his head again – Why did he agree? What the hell was he thinking? Dinner at the Senju compound, of all places... He sighed; he knew he was going to regret this.

— _-_


	3. While it Lasts

—-

Madara wanted to give Hashirama an annoyed glare or at least his trademark look of nonchalance, but found it extremely hard to do so. He'd been feeling like this for the past week and it was driving him crazy; no matter how much he wanted to frown at his old friend-turned-enemy-turned-ally turned—

Ever since he'd gotten over his initial bout of extreme reluctance over the alliance of their clans, whenever he'd seen Hashirama, it was like taking in a breath of fresh air. The hopeful look on the idiot's face brought a certain warmness to his heart, and a sudden wave of nostalgia would wash over him like a wave in the ocean – and he felt himself drowning in it each and every time; it was _maddening_. To him, it was nothing more than a supreme loss of control, and it baffled him to no end. Never before had Madara felt so powerless in front of another person, except for the time when Izuna had eventually succumbed to his fatal injury—

_No._

As the two shinobi walked down the spiraling stairs, Madara's thoughts seemed to echo throughout and bounce off the heavy, cold walls, never just leaving his mind and permeating the atmosphere with its torment; no, his confusion was forever trapped inside the depths of his mind, never to let itself be known to the man who walked so gracefully and confidently beside him. He spared a glance over to his right to see Hashirama looking off in front of him, unaware of the quick look his friend had given him.

Once they were outside, Hashirama offered to walk with Madara back to the Uchiha compound – but Madara did not say a word, this time giving off a sincere nonchalance at the friendly offer, while unintentionally hinting at his inner turmoil from being reminded of his brother's death just over a year ago...

So Hashirama walked with him silently until they reached their destination. Madara left his side and entered his home without a word or glance at Hashirama, who could only stand there, quietly observing his friend disappear behind the walls that separated them so deeply.

"...Hashirama? -sama," said a voice, quickly adding the forgotten honorific at the end.

He turned his head, swiftly scanning the area. Then with a sudden slowness, he tilted his head down toward his left. A young woman with shoulder-length dark hair stood roughly one foot away from him... _An odd angle to approach somebody from_ , he thought. Then, it slowly dawned upon him that he knew her - a quick study of her face told him that she was the woman who had attended the last two clan meetings with Madara.

A guard, of sorts.

He smirked. He found the thought quite amusing, to say the least. This young woman? As a guard? For _Madara_? At least Tobirama could compare to him, but he failed to see how this relatively short woman could come even close to comparing with Madara.

He realized he was still staring at her when she quirked an eyebrow up at him.

"What is it?" she questioned.

He placed his hands on his hip."What do you want, young lady?"

"I asked first," she retorted.

"Well, you're the one who approached me."

"You're on my clan's grounds."

"...Fair enough. I was just walking here with Madara."

"I'm not that much younger than you, you know," she said, not liking to be called 'young lady'.

He smiled. "You're what, seventeen? Eighteen?"

"Twenty-one."

His face straightened. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"You're still younger than me by two years."

"Okay."

"..."

"Well..."

"Well...hi! Sorry for the awkward introduction!" He paused for a moment. "Actually, I don't think I have introduced myself."

She raised her eyebrows in amusement. "You don't have to. I already addressed you by name..."

His face fell flat. "Right. Well, anyway..." He stuck out a friendly hand. "Senju Hashirama, at your service."

She stared at his outstretched hand for a few seconds before placing her hand in his own, returning the warm gesture. "Uchiha Kyoko."

"That's a pretty name," he said smoothly.

"..." She stifled a loud smirk, but let it burst into a fit of laughter once she saw the look of confusion on the man's face. "Is...that what you told Madara when you first met him?"

Hashirama sputtered. "I-I-what?" His hand was released; he felt it fall back to his side. His cheeks burned a raging pink – he hoped it was not as visible as he felt. "Madara is a not a pretty name at all. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Good. I agree. Your name is _much_ prettier," she said in a low, sultry voice. " _Hashirama_."

He felt his cheeks redden even more before he eventually realized she was just playing him. His own younger, cheeky self came to mind. Oh, he had _loved_ messing with Madara back when they'd first met. After all, that had been his own way of testing out his new friend and his sense of humor.

—-

 _"Keep gloating and we'll see how far_ you _skip across this creek!" Madara shouts at him._

_"I'm sorry," he cries. "I've cleary upset you. To atone for my sin, you have my permission to use me as a rock to throw across the creek."_

_Madara shakes his head. "Geez, no need to go and cry about it..."_

_A tiny, wry grin makes its way across his lips as he adds, "I just hope...I don't drown before I reach the other end..."_

_"Y-YOU-! YOU'RE REALLY ANNOYING! GET LOST!" _Madara scowls madly._  
_

_"Ok, fine..."_

_"Hold on a sec!" he interrupts, grabbing him by the shoulders, secretly not wanting to already lose this person he had only just met._

_Still looking the other way, Hashirama feels the warmness on his shoulder and grins happily. It is a familiar warmness, as if they've been friends already for so long..._

— _-_

He smiled at the fond memory, and felt his eyes lighten up at this young woman's childish, yet effective attempts at getting underneath his skin. Feeling mildly impressed, he played along. "You're right. But...do you want to hear a name that's even prettier?" he asked lightly, with a big grin spread across his face. " _Tobirama_."

Kyoko almost looked bothered.

Almost.

"Do you not agree? To-bi-ra-ma~..." he continued, trying to elicit some form of revulsion from her. "It really is the prettiest name I've ever heard. And everyday I get to say it." He grinned at her again. "Aren't I lucky?"'

"I'm luckier," she replied easily with a knowing smirk, effectively countering his own. "I get to see him everyday, talk about him everyday, and sometimes I even dream about him..."

The door a few metres across from them opened just a crack.

"I call his name every night..." Hashirama responded in a blissful tone.

"I scream his name every night..."

"I tattooed his name across my back..."

"I carved my name onto _his_ back..." she taunted.

This time it was Hashirama's mouth that fell open, mid-grin. "Hahaha!" He laughed out loud heartily—he decided right then and there that he liked this amusing woman. He studied her deep brown eyes warmly, and then froze when she seemed to suddenly tense. They both moved their heads toward the door opposite from them; their eyes widened at the sight.

A very disturbed Madara was standing in the doorway, staring at both of the shinobi, individually giving them each a look of disbelief. "You two...are disgusting. Stay very, very far away from me." He narrowed his eyes. "And Kyoko, don't even think about stepping on this property until I have cleansed your tainted mind." And with that, his face fell blank, and the door was calmly shut.

"..."

"She started it!" Hashirama called.

"Pfft," she responded.

After a moment of deliberation, Hashirama began slowly, "So... _Kyoko_. Your name sounds familiar, actually. It seems Tobirama has talked of you – or at least I _have_ seen your name engraved onto his back."

"You...stared at his naked back?"

"Not as much as you have..."

"Nor as much as you have stared at Madara's..."

Hashirama felt his eyes narrow and his face cringe in slight response to this remark. Okay, time to take her mind off of him and Madara. Anyway, he was genuinely curious about her connection with his younger brother, after all. They seemed to have known each other for a while, but he'd never found the right time to ask Tobirama about her, seeing as how they had both been very busy. So he said, "Okay. How do you know Tobirama?"

"Let's see...you go with him to the head meetings; Madara brings me to the head meetings." She crossed her arms.

"Makes sense..." he pondered. "But then, do you...get along well?" he asked doubtfully, with a grin unknowingly still plastered onto his face.

"He does not like the Uchiha. He does not like my clan."

"And? What about you?"

"...What about me?"

"Does he like you?"

She did not blink. "He does not like my clan, therefore he does not like me."

A slight frown overcame his features as he took in her statements heavily this time. "But Kyoko-san, you are not your—"

"I am my clan," she confirmed unflinchingly. She watched his expression become somewhat somber. "And you are yours."

"...Wrong," Hashirama said. "I am this village...not my clan." He returned her look. "What are you?"

She did not reply – instead, she appeared to brighten up. "Bye!"

Hashirama simply stood there as the woman disappeared into the house. He shook his head and turned around to leave. "You Uchiha...are certainly curiously...interesting," he mumbled to himself as he left.

* * *

—-

The intricately designed door to the Senju house opened after what appeared to be a few seconds of struggling. The woman inside turned her head at the presence making its way inside the home. She set down her knife and rested her hand upon the countertop expectantly. "Tobirama..."

He looked up after shutting the door behind him. "Ah?" His eyes landed on Toka, who was, to his delight, already in the kitchen. " _Your turn to do the cooking, Tooka~!_ " he announced unnecessarily, letting his voice boom throughout the house. He jingled the bag of groceries in his hand in the air before plopping them down beside her in a victorious fashion.

Toka eyed her younger clan member as he approached her. "Are you drunk, Tobirama?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Not in the least. But..." he narrowed his eyes at the bottle that she quickly hid behind her—she looked into his dark eyes innocently— "... _You_ are." He reached behind her and grabbed the liquor from her grasp. His jaw hit the floor. "Toka! _This_ bottle! It-It's half-finished! You know Hashirama was saving this for..." He let the word linger for a second before cutting himself off. "Anyway, he's already pissed." His eyebrows slid forward into a half-pout. "And now he'll be doubly so."

She leaned against the stove, unimpressed. "Did you anger him again with your nonsense about the other clans?" she asked bluntly. "And it's not half-empty. It's a little more full than that," she reasoned.

"...Toka, you better make something really great," he mumbled before cupping his chin into his hand, staring off to the side. "Hahh...I shouldn't have gone out with Akimichi-sama, and just come straight home instead..."

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. "You went out drinking with the Akimichi...clan head...?"

It had been inevitable; unable to shake the bitter words of his one and only Uchiha ally, he'd luckily caught sight of and eventually joined the Akimichi head in getting tipsy over the nonsense that had occurred in the meeting just prior. "He's actually pretty friendly. Oh well." He felt the warm fuzziness in his chest become heavier at the thought of an angry Hashirama. He sighed again.

"Okay. Well. Um...I'm not sure I can cook right now." She pointed to the food item already in front of her—or at least she thought she was pointing at it. "I can hardly cut this cucumber in front of me," she admitted.

Tobirama looked at her. "No problem." He stood beside her and placed his hand over the water-heavy vegetable carefully. Two seconds later, its entire length was sliced into circular, half-inch segments.

"...Oh. I forgot you could do that." She scrunched up her face. "Why aren't you doing the cooking every night, then?"

"Because Hashirama always wants to. Plus, I don't love cooking nearly as much as you do."

"But you're so good at it!"

"But you're so much faster at it."

"Okay..." She set down the knife once again. "So...what should we cook?"

"You mean what should _you_ cook."

"Right," she agreed docilely, as if she was not his senior by six years. She looked at him expectantly. "...So...?"

"Don't look at me! Whatever Hashirama likes, really." He turned away from her and began to stroll casually in the opposite direction. "I don't really mind either way— what do you like? Oh yeah. You like pretty much everything Hashirama does...so just cook...whatever!" He waved a hand in the air dismissively. "..." He paused midstep at her extended silence, and craned his neck behind him.

She had begun to drink the liquor yet again.

"Toka!" Running back, he grabbed the bottle from her and brought the label in front of his face. He sloshed its contents around, staring at it pathetically. "You..." He sighed. "Hashirama is going to be _very_ pissed..." He set down the bottle beside him onto the countertop. "Never mind. Ok! Now...let's...cook something."

She let out a breath and hung her head a little. "...Okay..."

* * *

—-

The Uchiha head only had one thing on his mind as he was being observed by his 'younger sister'. "Kyoko," he said, turning around after arranging his room, "Tell your father I cannot meet your family for dinner tonight; it will have to wait."

The young woman stood in the doorway and raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Tell them I said hi," she said, before turning to leave.

"Tell who?" he questioned, not taking his eyes off the kunoichi.

"Hashirama-sama, Toka-san, Tobirama..." She droned casually.

"...Hm."

"You are not that hard to see through, ani-chan," she responded with a light smirk. _He thinks I know nothing. Even Izuna had seen it..._ " I can see the delight written all over your face."

He tensed, but his tone betrayed nothing. "Really? I thought that was my I'm-going-to-fucking-kill-you face."

She giggled. "Madara-ani has the hots for the Senju Hashi—" She was abruptly met with a hand over her mouth. Her dark eyes widened guiltlessly.

His black hair fell over his right eye as he shifted his head toward her and spoke in a deep, menacing voice. "Say another word. I dare you," he muttered darkly.

Unfazed, she spoke while muffled by her elder clan member, " _Madara-ani has the hots for_ —"

"Kyoko you damn idiot! Get lost!" He finally pouted in an angry manner, pointing her out his door. She was forcibly moved forward several feet away before Madara let go and retreated back into his room to finish preparing for the evening. _Damn hair...always getting so messed up._

He heard her giggling echo in the hall as she walked further away. He was silent for the next few moments as he stared into the mirror in front of him solemnly. A sudden depression came over him as he thought about his current reality; and then his mind fell to the past, and he was a young kid, again — training, seeking the advice of his older brothers, giving advice to his younger brothers, watching two of them die in front of his eyes...

Not getting to watch the other two leave this world, and not getting to say goodbye...

His heart was once again ravaged by his painful past. And here he was, now allied with the Senju, along with the other clans he'd previously he'd attacked and been attacked by. _Well, your best friend approves..._

_So what do you think, Izuna...?_

_Am I betraying you? For the love of the man whose clan so quickly ended your life...?_ His eyelids lowered and his gaze fell to the floor. He spent the next few minutes in heavy silence.

But then, Kyoko's grinning, cheeky face intruded upon and swept across his mind, cleansing his thoughts of all self-loathing and doubt. Slowly, he smiled softly.

* * *

—-

The look on his face was something the woman might only witness this one time around.

The Senju head stood, baffled. "HAHH?" he exclaimed incredulously, looking around him. The place was a mess. "T-Toka! What did you do?" he asked, placing his hands on his head as he walked through the kitchen. "This..." As he scanned the pigstye that was his his living room, his eyes found Tobirama, who was casually leaning against the refrigerator, holding a wet cloth in his hand.

He grinned. "Anija..." he greeted with a slight hiccup.

Hashirama's mouth fell open. "You did not—!" He stepped forward and noticed the large bottle on the countertop. "You _did!_ " He was astonished. His favorite bottle of sake he'd been saving up for the one night Madara would join them...

"Huh?" he asked, confused, as he had trouble meeting his brother's eyes.

Hahirama let go of him and turned his head over his shoulder. "Toka!" he accused, pointing a finger at her. "It was you!"

She slowly turned away from him. "H-hello, Hashirama. How nice to see you," she greeted, stumbling over her words, looking only vaguely ashamed.

He dragged himself over to the countertop and cupped his face into his hands, just like his brother had done, earlier. "This place...is a mess...you _do_ know I invited Madara over for dinner, tonight...?" he sobbed.

"What?" Tobirama snapped out of his daze and walked over to him, nearly tripping over a few potato peels and squash skins on the way. "What!" he exclaimed again.

Hashirama pouted. "I already told you, brother. Anyway, why did you let Toka cook, Tobiramaaaa~..." he sulked. "There's food...everywhere..."

"Hey—I went to old man Hatake's house and bought from him what I needed to. He overpriced everything, but it's there!" He pointed to the fresh vegetables that were laid out quite messily, half-chopped into bits. "Zucchini isn't even in season, right now, you know—"

"Of course I'd know!" he snapped back.

"How is your garden doing, Hashi-chan?" Toka asked, oblivious to her state of drunkennes.

He was indignant. "My plants are doing very well, obviously. Wait...Hashi-chan?" he repeated, and slapped a hand to his forehead. He turned on his brother fast. "Tobirama! How could you let Toka get drunk?! You know how she is!" he said vehemently.

"Don't ask me," he replied, raising his hands beside him. "The room was a mess before I got here."

He narrowed his eyes. "No it wasn't."

"Fine. But she was already drunk when I got here," he insisted.

"...Fine. I believe you. But why are _you_ drunk?" he questioned suspiciously, noticing the rosiness of his little brother's cheeks.

"I'm not," he said straightforwardly, trying not to think about the excess beer he'd consumed in an attempt to cope with Toka's wild behavior. His eyelids lowered. "But I really don't remember you telling me that _he_ was coming here," he muttered, staring past his brother, referring to the Uchiha as ' _kisama_ '.

"Tobirama! That is enough of your bigotry!" Hashirama scolded.

"What...what big tree?" he asked, scowling.

"..." He whacked him on the head. "Ahou, take a break from your suiton training already – you've clearly gotten water in your ears." He walked over to the typically reserved woman and motioned that she start doing something. "Anyway, come on guys. We've gotta get this place cleaned up before Madara gets here," he said with a sigh, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Then he froze, and slowly turned to the front door. _Shit._

"I like what you've done with the place," the Uchiha said smoothly. He stood in the doorway wih his arms at his side, wearing a bland expression. He moved past Hashirama and easily toward Tobirama, scowling at the man who scowled right back at him.

"What do you want," the Senju said disdainfully.

"Do you always talk to people like that?" he spat. "Don't forget I'm older than you." He saw Tobirama blink; he could almost read his mind from the look in his eyes – 'Is _that_ the only reason you should be angry with me?' – was what those deep brown eyes said to him. But he only looked away, and grabbed the cloth out of the man's hand and thrust it straight into Hashirama's.

It was Hashirama's turn to blink. "Why me?" he argued incredulously. "It's Tobirama's fault this place is a mess!"

"Hey, I took no part in this. It's not my fault she decided to use ninjutsu on her cooking!"

"..." Hashirama moved toward him. "Ninjutsu? You _knew!_ And yet you didn't stop her?" He glared at him before casting an irritated glance toward his other clan member. She gave him a sheepish look in return before moving her eyes to the Uchiha in the room.

"I commend you on using fire techniques to aid in your cooking, Toka," Madara said lightly as he walked over to her. He placed an arm around her shoulder in friendly manner. His expression remained cool, yet it was freckled with amusement. "Though I do recommend that you not use them right after drinking." He scanned the area around him and spoke graciously. "Well, Hashirama, dinner has been served. Thank you kindly for the meal."

Hashirama's eyes narrowed. "...That's it. Madara, you are helping clean up." He turned to his brother. "Tobirama! You, Madara, and Toka will spend the entire night cleaning up my house!" he ordered authoritatively.

"Like hell that's gonna happen," Tobirama repudiated, slurring mid-sentence. He leaned a forearm over the tall countertop in a spiteful manner.

"Be a responsible adult, Tobirama!" Toka snapped at him, nearly slurring her own words.

"What! You were the one who decided to cook with ninjutsu half-tanked off your ass!"

"Wrong!" she retorted. "I am _fully_ tanked!" As if to emphasize this typically uncharacteristic behavior of hers, her long dark bangs fell out from behind her ears and covered her bloodshot left eye.

Hashirama's mouth was open for a moment. "..." He hung his head and turned toward his love interest in shame. "Madara...I am so sorry you had to witness my family's supreme foolishness..." he apologized pathetically, mumbling in his depressed voice. However, when he raised his gaze to meet the man's eyes, he froze. "..."

Madara peered at him sideways as the tip of Hashirama's prized bottle of sake pressed against his lips. Completely oblivious of Hashirama's thoughts, he cocked an eyebrow at his shock.

There was only one thought that befell the Senju. He pulled on a saddened, comical face and pouted. _Why can't that bottle of sake...be me..._

Madara turned to him fully. He removed the bottle from his lips and held it closely beside him, betraying the words he spoke next. "Want some?" he asked in the most nonchalant manner one could contrive.

"W-want you? To do what?" Though not an ounce of alcohol had entered his body, Hashirama found himself tripping over his words.

"What?" The long-haired Uchiha narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Hashirama, you're not making any sense." He lazily shifted his gaze over to the other two Senju, who were now physically struggling with each other. "And neither are they. What exactly is it that they are doing?" He set down the glass bottle heavily, causing a loud _clank!_ to echo throughout the home.

At this, Tobirama and Toka turned away from each other, stopping mid-struggle.

"What?" they both barked.

Hashirama retrieved two more cloths and soaked them in water, and then created two wooden poles with his mokuton. Then, he attached the cloths to the bottom and proceeded to shove the homemade mops into the hands of his family members.

Madara held out the cloth he'd stolen from the white-haired Senju. "What about me? Don't I get a stick?"

"No," he rejected. "Since you encouraged them, you will be getting down on your hands and knees." Not because of the view, of course...

"What!"

Hashirama glared at him. "Do it."

—-

After a very productive cleaning session, the kitchen and living room were now clean. With a sigh, Hashirama sat down on the floor with his legs stretched outwards and leaned back on his arms. He looked up and admired the clean sight.

"Finally. I was getting hungry," Madara said. He examined his nails casually.

Hashirama turned his head and looked up at him. "Hey...you hardly even cleaned!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger out at him accusingly. He stared at Toka, who was standing beside the man with his arm around her shoulder nonchalantly. "Toka..." he whined. "You didn't help, either..."

"I think I'm still a bit tipsy. I wouldn't have been able to clean up," she said carelessly, shifting her cool gaze to the man keeping himself busy near the stove.

"Tobirama...my brother...you, too, have abandoned this task and dumped it upon me..." Hashirama cried, jutting out a lip.

The shinobi in question turned sharply to the right, holding out his soup ladle in an offensive position, thrusting it in the direction of his elder brother; the motion, however, caused heavy droplets of soup to splatter onto his face and the floor in front of the wielder of the ladle. "Ah..." A cringe became visible in his expression.

"..." Hashirama took his hand and wiped the soup off of his face. "Tobirama..." he muttered darkly.

Madara smirked.

"You better be done cooking. I'm starving." Hashirama scowled as he lifted himself off the floor and made his way to his brother.

"Toka was supposed to do it," Tobirama muttered, shooting her a look. And why was she standing so close to Madara? Were those two best buddies or something?

She didn't even look at him. "I couldn't cook, either."

"Thanks for the help, guys," Hashirama said as he moved past them and stood beside Tobirama. "Done?"

"Yeah," he replied, stepping away from the stovetop as his brother leaned closer to it, peering into the contents of the pot.

"Soup?" he questioned, glancing back at his brother.

Tobirama crossed his arms. "All of our food got destroyed, so I made do with whatever ingredients I could find," he muttered in response, looking away.

"Soup? That's it?" Madara laughed.

Toka nudged him. "He's actually very good at cooking. Don't underestimate him."

He looked up at her amusedly. "You're right. He probably poisoned it."

"Idiot. Why would I poison the entire soup?" Tobirama scoffed, nearly throwing the ladle purposely at the Uchiha's smug face. _Dammit. Doing a woman's job in front of this jerk. I can already sense the endless ridicule he'll put me through._

"Okay whatever, guys," Hashirama butted in. "I'm hungry. Let's eat!"

And with that, within just minutes the four shinobi were seated at the table, ready to start the meal. Three of them eyed their meals and half-filled as well as over-filled wine glasses expectantly.

Before they ate, however, Hashirama spoke. "Let us thank the gods and Hatake ojii-san for having food at our table tonight. If it were not for them, we would not be having zucchini on this fine winter night. Let us also thank Madara for gracing us with his presence this evening, and Tobirama for cooking for all of us even though most of the food was destroyed due to Toka's drunkenness and Tobirama's lack of appropriate discipline due to his own drunkenness—"

"I was not and am not drunk," his brother cut in.

"—And let us wish Madara a very happy birthday." Hashirama finished with a smile.

"..."

"What?"

The remaining Senju exchanged glances. "Uh...yeah...hope you had a good one," Tobirama muttered awkwardly.

"Yes, happy birthday," Toka said casually.

"..." Madara gave his friend a death glare. "How do you know the day of my birth?"

Hashirama winked in return. "I know everything," he said knowingly, poking fun at Madara's younger self. He remembered whenever he'd ask the boy something, he'd always receive that same response. And now, to his content, he could see the corners of Madara's lips twitch upwards at his response.

Less than an hour later, everyone's bowls were licked clean, and wine glasses spotless. During the meal they had wandered from the dining table, and droned about typical things, remarked on nontypical things, conversed about strange things, and laughed at amusing things.

Madara yawned softly. "Thhhanks for the meal, Hashiramaa..." He made his way over to and leaned back against the couch comfortably. He then looked up to see his love interest looking down at him happily.

His hands tickled and tingled and bothered him to no end; he fought back every urge he had to just grab Hashirama's face and make out with him right then and there. _But..._ He slid his eyes over to the other Senju, who was picking up the dishes that were so randomly scattered throughout the living room, and slowly trudging toward the wall that blocked the Uchiha's view to the kitchen. _Bastard. Why is he still here._

"Damn Toka, passing out like that...still not helping out," Tobirama grumbled, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Madara looked over to his right, where the elder kunoichi was soundly asleep. She was amusing to look at in this state, considering how sharp she typically held herself. He smiled softly at the sight — he definitely liked Toka.

While Madara was busy spacing out, Hashirama grabbed the two wine glasses on the table beside him, saying, "I'll take these two," and turned away to temporarily join his brother. Hashirama grinned at the sight – his brother actually doing the dishes – and chuckled.

He paused mid-scrub. "What?"

"Nothing," he said easily. He stood beside him carefully. "Just...thank you. For keeping yourself in check around Madara for me. You two didn't fight at all – at least I don't _think.._." He scrunched his eyes in suspicion. "You weren't sending hateful thoughts to each other, were you?"

Tobirama turned and gave him a dry look.

"Anyway, I'll finish up, here. Since I didn't help clean up _before_ dinner," he said in a dry tone of his own.

"Not that you should have. It was mine and Toka's mess." He smirked. "But you still tried to punish _him_ for it. May I ask why?"

"It was...punishment for this afternoon," Hashirama said lightly as he removed the glass from his brother's hand, signaling that he would now take over the chore. "Although I ended up doing it, anyway..."

"Hm," he said, raising an eyebrow in amusement. And with that, he left Hashirama to finish the dishes and re-entered the main room only to find a certain Uchiha staring at him. "Madara..." he said softly as he approached him.

"What is it?" he asked with a lazy slur of annoyance in his voice. They met eyes as Tobirama took a seat beside him. He slightly shifted his body away from his presence out of reflex.

"..." Tobirama stared into his black eyes as if searching for something, but after a moment he appeared to lose his edge. "...Never mind." He looked away and leaned back against the sofa, letting himself slide down a bit, folding his arms across his chest in the process. He stared off into space for a while, thinking only about his brother, Kyoko, and the man beside him.

Madara gazed at the Senju in light suspicion through half-lidded eyes. _What was that about?_ But the thought soon disappeared, and within minutes he found himself dozing off, and only vaguely sensed the slow-approaching presence.

Hashirama was standing in front of the sofa, softly chuckling at the sight before his eyes. _Madara and Tobirama...sitting next to each other, on the same piece of furniture...asleep..._ Still amused, he reached out a hand and place it on his brother's forehead, pushing back his fluffy white locks lovingly. He smiled. Then, he stepped closer to Madara, and stared down at his sleeping figure.

Unable to look away, he said softly, "Happy birthday, Madara..." Although a bit scared, he gathered his confidence and gently placed his hand over Madara's. He froze for an instant when the man's eyes opened at the touch; but to his relief, they closed just as swiftly as they'd opened. So Hashirama let his hand linger for just a moment longer before reluctantly pulling it back, and closed his fingers into a soft fist, holding it close beside his chest. _I should get some sleep, too_ , he realized as he glanced at the clock. _Tomorrow is going to be a busy day..._

_—-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ah, I had some fun writing this one, though it was certainly longer than I expected. Hope you enjoyed! Feedback would be lovely. I might even get Tobi to make you some of his delicious soup (you know you want some)


	4. Colors and Contrast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anija – older brother  
> Aneue – older sister (extremely respectful)

—-

Leaning her body back, Kyoko folded her arms behind her head. She let out a soft sigh and looked around at her family happily. Her parents sat on the tatami mat across from her, while her two brothers each sat on either side of the low table, leaving her with the opposing side all to herself. She felt the bright, warm sunlight tingle a pleasant burn across her arms as it spilled in through the windows around the home.

It was a nice morning. Starting out a new day...that was the best part of life. It was a time to start fresh – it marked the greatest potential of change in the day, and the greatest control in the beginning; the events of the day to come were up to no one. This height of power, to already be felt so early in the morning...

It was energizing.

While letting herself relax and mentally prepare for the day, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, and absorbed the peace that surrounded her. She felt herself become very carefree once she'd cleared her mind and...stopped thinking...about Tobirama's words from the day before.

_'I don't hate you...'_

Oddly enough, his words had been an uplifting reminder to who she was, and what her place was. To not be hated by others was something she could appreciate; but for some reason, not being hated by Tobirama seemed to give her a strange feeling in her stomach. Was it...relief? Joy? She wondered why there could—

She suddenly became aware of the small smile on her face when she noticed in her peripheral vision her youngest brother staring at her.

"Yesterday was no fun," he grumbled, cupping his hand to his face.

She turned her head to him and rolled her eyes. "You get bored so easily, Kagami. Why aren't you helping out with the construction? Everyday they need a good pair of hands to help out."

"That is true." The eldest of the three siblings smirked, and then set down his chopsticks for a moment. "Why don't you come with me today? The Inuzuka still haven't fully built their residence yet. They need lots of help to make room for their dogs."

Kagami was unimpressed. "Building houses is so boring," he whined, and placed his small hands on the low table in defeat. "That's all Danzou and Homura want to do. Build, build, build..."

"Hush, boy," their father said gruffly.

His wife added, "You will go with your older brother and help, whether you like it or not." She turned her black eyes to her eldest son and said, "Setsuna, make sure he doesn't goof off," before setting her weighty gaze on her daughter.

"Oh, I will," he said knowingly, while finishing the last bite of his breakfast. He turned to the small boy. "You need to do some actual stuff, little bro. Be useful. Can't play all day, you know?" Then he reached out and patted his brother's head while the boy stared at his older sister in annoyance.

"This is all your fault," Kagami muttered to her. Then he became frightened when a hand threatened to bash down on his head, and quickly changed his expression and mumbled, " _Aneue_." He stood up, leaving his empty plate on the table.

Kyoko scowled while giving him a mischievous grin. "Hm," she agreed superfluously at hearing the respecful term in order to not get a smack on the head. She turned to her other sibling. "Setsuna," she said with a smile, "I'll go with you, hm? We'll be the Uchiha building trio! Most of our stuff is already done. I know others still need help..."

"Hm, I don't know. Kagami, should we bring a girl with us on our manly adventure?" The twenty-three year old gave his little brother a wink.

"Nope!" Kagami stuck his tongue out at her.

"Then it's settled."

"Heh, not funny..." She crossed her arms. "Anyway..."

"Sorry, sis. Nii-san said! No girls allowed," the boy said with a grin, oblivious to her hurt, like the child he was.

Kyoko was silent. "..." This was getting tiring...she was really done with Setsuna's jokes. After a few seconds, however, she spoke with a soft frown, "You don't have to say that..."

Her eldest brother sighed. "It's not a big deal. I was just kidding...you can come along with us if you want to."

She narrowed her eyes at him. As usual... "Forget it. I don't need to deal with you..." She began to leave the room.

"Hey, come on—" He reached out his arm, trying to grab her shoulder.

She whipped back around to face him once more, and looked up into his black eyes. "You do this all the time. Look at what you're teaching him—"

"It's not a big deal..." He knitted his eyebrows in disbelief.

"...Then just don't say it."

Their parents observed the argument between their kids quietly.

Setsuna could not understand his sister's argument. Why couldn't she learn to take a joke already? He didn't mind bringing her along, really...he could teach her how to build, and maybe they'd get the job done faster. "What is with you?"

"What is with _you_?" Kyoko glanced at her mother quickly, hoping she wasn't looking at her. Alas, she met her eyes for just a brief moment, and in them she saw... disappointment. A hint of revulsion. "Women can do things, too, you know." It was disrespectable to be talking like this to her older sibling.

"Yeah, like boss men around," Kagami mumbled, moving past her to leave the room and get ready for the day.

She'd had it; she was furious with their ignorance. Even after all this time, even though she'd kept it hidden from them, they still had not seen that she actually—

" _Like become_ —" Kyoko began to correct, but stopped herself short; she knew it was not wise to speak anymore. Reluctantly, she controlled herself, and let it go. She was temporarily met with her younger brother's curious stare – it was a look of doubt, as if he was suddenly unsure of which elder sibling he should be paying more attention to.

Kyoko immediately felt sorry, and began to feel as if she'd overreacted. There was no need to cause Kagami any more confusion. Right now she'd just let Setsuna take him along. "...Okay, go get ready. You need to go learn some things from your brother, anyway," she said, deciding to leave the room as well, all the while carefully avoiding her father's reprimanding stare and her mother's disapproving glare.

* * *

—-

Even through the dark, heavy curtain masking the rectangular window to his right, sunlight could still be felt on Tobirama's arms. "Pff..." He groaned as the uncertainty of the new day spilled itself all over him, leaving him drowning in its warm, unpleasant... _smothering_ blanket. He'd never particularly favored the type of awful, suffocating heat it could induce simply by having it touch you.

He held out his sun-drenched hand in front of him, and stared at it. It seemed to glow a strange, heavenly gold. It was an entrancing color, and brought a sensation of soothing warmth, peace and tranquility. He soon found himself completely lost in its iridescence...until it turned a blood red. He blinked fast– the image cleared away.

He sighed.

It was a shitty morning. Starting out a new day...that was the worst part of life. It was a time to start new – it marked the greatest potential of change in the day, and the greatest loss of control in the beginning; the events of the day to come were always pre-determined by the events of the day before. This loss of power, to be felt already so early in the morning...

It was exhausting.

Wanting to ignore his already pessimistic thoughts, he turned his attention to the neglected sound of knocking at his door. "Tobirama," said a deep voice.

The door opened softly. From underneath the sheet that covered most of his face, Tobirama watched as a figure with long, dark hair stepped in. There was a flash of metal, and an intense glow of red.

_Izuna?_

He stared back at his hand, and tensed – it was again covered in blood. The dark, cherry-red color shined in the faint sunlight, and began to spill onto his bed. Horrified, he looked back to Izuna again – but he was gone. All that appeared was his last brother, standing in the doorway, giving him an odd look.

"Awake?"

Startled, Tobirama threw the sheets off his face and stared at the doorway for a moment before muttering, "Go away." Then he threw the sheets back over his face and tried to pretend Hashirama wasn't there.

He felt the perpetually red-stained marks on his face burn and sting; it was Izuna calling, reminding him of the piece of his mind that he had always marked as his own. Izuna's dark, heavy chakra was boiling, making itself very clear in his mind and on his body.

Yes, it was easy to pretend his brother wasn't there.

Hashirama, however, amused as always, strode right in and stood beside his bed. He gently peeled the sheets off his brother's face and chuckled when he was met with an irritated, half-lidded glare.

Still, his ears were subject only to Izuna's contemptuous whispers. They clouded over him like a heavy fog.

—-

" _Three scars...three brothers..."_

_The red that is painted on his skin becomes indistinguishable from the blood that now seeps from it. 'How convenient...making my shinobi paint essentially permanent...'  
_

_But the contempt in his opponent's voice is clear. The anger. The hurt. "That is what your clan has taken from me. And I...won't let your last brother take away mine, either..." He reluctantly takes the kunai away from the boy's face. "And now you will not be allowed to forget...every time you look into a mirror, you will be reminded of the pain your clan has caused mine. The pain it has caused me...and Madara..." He throws the kunai into the ground just inches away from the boy's head, no longer wanting to be associated with the blood-stained weapon.  
_

_Tobirama stares up at him, no less angered. Furious at himself for being out of chakra, he lies on the ground, burned all over, forcefully subjected to the boy's fury and disdain for his existence. He waits patiently for Hashirama, who is busy dealing with Madara somewhere in the distance. He winces painfully._

_Serves him right for not listening to his uncle. Or his father. Or Hashirama, for that matter. Yet, he perseveres with his purpose. "If we work together, we can..."  
_

_Yes, Hashirama would be pissed...look at him now. Can't even take care of himself. Trying to go get separated, trying to get himself killed..._

_"Shut up." Izuna stares down at him hard. Tobirama can see his fingers itch with the urge to kill; something must be stopping him, for now, he realizes. "I don't want to hear your bullshit. You think we can just forget the past? That would be nothing but dishonor to my clan..."  
_

_He begins to pick himself up. _ _Was there no end to his contention?__ "I just want to talk with you..." He stares at the grass, trying to avoid the dangerous, magnetic stare of his sharingan. So he thinks of Hashirama's stare, instead...that hopeful, dreamy stare he always has on his face... _

_Yes. Instead of pushing aside his own feelings, he needs to bring them forth, and use them to his advantage. He needs to feel the words he wants to say, and add an enduring passion to them... So he takes his logic as well as Hashirama's hope and forces them to coalesce. "It's useless to continue like this...people dying for no reason, when we could just become allies, and-"  
_

_Izuna scoffs. He won't have it. "You are a joke. A pathetic piece of trash. I know how your clan tried to fool us, in the past..."_

_Tobirama's mind spins, unable to think clearly anymore._ _Goddammit! This is what he gets for wanting people to stop fighting! Get stuck in the crossfire, and only get burned. He knew that he was far from innocent, himself, but...wasn't there another way—?_

_"Izuna!"_

_He can hear their brothers calling their names... Wait, how his clan tried to fool theirs?..._

_"Tobirama!"_

— _-_

He blinked at Hashirama, unamused. "What are you doing?"

"We've got things to do, brother. Why haven't you gotten up? You're usually up by this hour..." He made sure to speak in a low voice; he did not want to wake Toka. No, not at this time of morning. It was too early for her, and he did not want to deal with her hangover, either.

"What time is it?" He squinted his eyes up at his elder brother.

Hashirama raised an eyebrow at the unusual question, coming from him. "It's time to get up." He was about to let go of the sheet when something caught his eye. Now It was Hashirama's turn to squint. "...You have bags under your eyes. Did you not sleep well?"

"..." Tobirama really didn't have an answer for him. He tried to think. "Did I...?" he mumbled.

Hashirama blinked. "Go back to sleep, brother..." It was only seven in the morning, anyway. It was okay to let him sleep in once in a while. But...he narrowed his eyes when he saw his brother was not having any of it. Why did he never listen...?

"No...it's time to get up." Gruffly, he sat up, and stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

Hashirama flicked his cheek. "It's okay, I'll wake you and Toka up la—" But he was ignored, and his hand was gently slapped away. He frowned at the gesture.

"It's fine, Hashirama. Out," he grumbled.

"But?—"

"Out."

He sighed in defeat. "Fine," he grumbled in return. In a last attempt to get a response from him, however, he moved toward the door and added in a careless voice, "I've got to go meet Madara, anyway..."

Attention earned.

"What?" Tobirama turned his head. "Again? What for?"

"Goodbye, mother dear," Hashirama sang as he exited the room. His carefree voice could be heard in the kitchen.

"Dammit, anija," he muttered, scowling as he threw the covers off him and got up from the bed. He slowly blinked, withstanding the sudden headrush that came with standing up too quickly. He followed his brother out and leaned his hands on the dining table. "What business do you have with him? You just saw him last night..." He stared at his brother, who refused to stand still and face him.

Hashirama moved about the kitchen, not doing anything in particular. He could feel his brother's eyes on him intensely. "So?" he asked. "I can see him again, can't I?"

Tobirama let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, but..."

There was a sudden low, elongated groan from the room down the hall; an equally low, growling voice that came from what appeared to be _hell_ could be heard throughout the house, seeping into the hearts of those miserable souls who had the miscalculated fortune of being subject to its permeating wrath.

" _Let me sleep in peace, goddammit..._ "

Hashirama poked his head into the hallway and cringed with his face. _Oops...Toka..._ Slowly returning his attention to the matter at hand, he continued, "You know...I don't need your permission to see him, brother." He finally turned his body around and faced him. "Or do I?" He placed a hand on his shoulder and looked into eyes. "You two are not...secretly _dating_...are you?"

"..."

"Ow!"

"Serves you right..." Tobirama huffed, removing his fist from his brother's head. He looked to the side for a moment.

Hashirama opened his eyes and took his hands off the tender spot on his head. His cheeky grin slowly faded from his face when he caught the distant stare of his brother's eyes. The deep brown he saw seemed almost...troubled. "You...really should go back to sleep, you know." He frowned with concern. "Like I said, I can just wake you and Toka later..."

"No," he said, already enervated from dealing with his ignorant brother for more than two minutes. He knew he'd had something important to say, but he found that sentences would not form easily. "Don't you remember?" He lifted his hands off the table and rubbed his face, trying to clear his thoughts. "They're...uhh..."

Hashirama waited patiently. "..." A minute passed and he still stood, arms at his side, waiting until Tobirama decided to give up.

He stopped rubbing his face and put his hands in his hair. "Uhh..." His eyes shut tight for a second as he felt the smack on the head get returned to him. He shifted his eyes in annoyance. "What was that for..."

Hashirama reminded gently, "Today we're meeting with the daimyo. _Duh_."

A lightbulb appreared to go over Tobirama's head. "Right. That was it."

"You didn't remember?"

"I did..."

"But you forgot just now..."

"I didn't forget..." He was met with a raised eyebrow. "I just..." His mind was so fuzzy – it felt like it was full of cobwebs. It was annoying beyond belief. Frustrated with his completely inability to think, he said, "Bah! Never mind..." He let his arms fall by his side as he stared off into space once again. His mind wandered yet again. He tensed however, feeling the back of a hand touch his cheek.

 _He's warm. Great. Probably caught it from Tsubasa. And just when she had gotten over it..._ Hashirama sighed, and removed his hand. "Don't worry about the daimyo. I've got things covered. I just need to speak...with Madara for a bit," he finished reluctantly, worried about the conversation that would follow later that day.

"..." Not really listening, his younger brother dragged himself out of the area. "Ok..."

Hashirama watched as he passed through the dining area and back into his room. He paused for a second, and then heard a gentle thud. Good – now he would not be a distraction for when Hashirama would go out to meet Madara...

Yes.

— _-_

After a short while later, Hashirama had finished getting ready for the day, and immediately went to go meet his friend in the center of town.

"To be honest, I don't know how you could know such a thing. I barely remembered it, myself," his friend said as he walked alongside him.

"Oh come on, Madara, who could forget their own birthday?" Hashirama asked, placing his forearm over Madara's left shoulder casually. It was a common sign of comfortable relations, and of friendship; but to Madara, it was a symbol of where he stood – that to Hashirama, he was his right-hand man. Usually he would've been fine with that, but _now_? He knew that he wanted more... but he wouldn't dare admit this. Not this to a man so...oblivious as Hashirama.

"Hn," was all he replied. He didn't bother to remove the arm that rested upon his shoulder. It left a nice...tingle.

A _tingle_ , dammit!

Hashirama casually whistled an old tune he'd heard as a child, from his mother; it was a soft, catchy tune. "So, who was it that has requested our help, this time?"

"Your help. And..." He trailed off, and his face fell blank. He thought for a moment. "I haven't the slightest clue." He faced his friend and gave him an odd look. "You're supposed to be the absent-minded person, here."

"Me? Absent-minded? Pff," he retorted easily, making sure not to lean too heavily on Madara's shoulder. "As one of the founders of this...village, I do not have time to be appearing...absent-minded." It certainly wouldn't help to appear this way in front of the Fire lords, later this afternoon...

"I agree."

"So then, why are _you_ forgetting things? I don't usually remember this kind of stuff, anyway. There's too much to think about," he muttered softly. Then his voice resumed its normal fullness, and he continued on. "You're the one with the sharpest mind, here, anyway."

Madara raised a dark eyebrow at the obvious statement. "I know."

"Because..."

"I know everything."

He smiled.

A gust of wind blew by, and Madara's thick, dark hair blew into Hashirama's face for a second. He saw the faintest hint of a blush across his friend's face as he gently removed the hair from out of his field of vision. Once they met eyes, Madara couldn't help but smirk at his expression.

"Wow, what shampoo do you use? Your hair smells really good!" Hashirama exclaimed.

"..." The man's words were too amusing for the casual smirk. After just a glance at Hashirama's exuberant expression, he stopped and busted up laughing. He had no words for this...idiot.

"Ah, well..." Secretly enjoying his sudden burst of carefree laughter, Hashirama squinted an eye and looked off to his side. There was a fluttering in his stomach, seeing Madara so happy like that, even if only for a brief moment. He felt floaty, like he was gliding through air. Why did this feeling only arise when he was around _him_? "It doesn't matter. There are lots of people who could use our help. Let's just go around and see who needs it."

When Madara had calmed down, he smiled softly to the side. "Alright." Once more, he found himself hopelessly off-balance. A slow, soft frown came across his face. This funny feeling again...

It needed to stop.

—-


	5. Up in the Wind and Nothing More

—-

The brown-haired ninja reached forward to stop the arms in motion. He latched his hands onto his friend's arms, and tried to pull them back. "No, no, Danzou—"

"Stop it!" shouted back the boy in question, giving him a glare. He held on firmly to the wooden planks in his hand, unwilling to hand them over.

"You're not doing it right, Hiruzen!" Kagami said, and then shifted his earnest look over to his darker-haired friend. "Danzou's right." He wiped the sweat from his brow and then stared for a moment at what they'd accomplished so far.

The young Sarutobi huffed and looked off to the side. "You always agree with Danzou."

"You always agree with Torifu," Kagami retorted, tearing his eyes away from the partially constructed shop.

He straightened up. "Do not!"

"Do too."

"...He's more right than you, a lot of times, you know."

Kagami crossed his arms and puffed out his chest, closing his eyes in a dignified pose. "Yeah, well I'm _Uchiha_. Uchiha boys beat Akimichi boys any day— _ow_ _!_ "

The other two boys stepped back and laughed, pointing at the boy who's head was now squashed underneath the strong hand of his older sibling.

"That's enough, Kagami. Now get back to work," his older brother said, winking at Hiruzen and Danzou before releasing his hand from the head of black, wavy hair. "I'm going to go bring Kazuma here; the shop owner would like another hand to help. Since you boys are clearly not performing up to par," he said, glancing at the poorly built wall of the side of the tiny restaurant. He raised an eyebrow.

"Setsuna-nii, can I come with you?" Hiruzen asked.

The older Uchiha looked down at him questioningly. "Hm? You want to come?" That was odd, he noticed; most ninja tended to avoid the Uchiha, especially people from large, renowned shinobi families like the Sarutobi.

"Hiruzen, it's rude to just invite yourself over like—" Danzou interrupted, but was cut off by Setsuna's words.

"It's fine. Okay, Sarutobi. You can come with me." He turned to his little brother. "Kagami. You will be okay here, by yourself?"

"..." Danzou scowled up at him, squinting into the early morning sunlight. "He's not alone, you know! I'm here, too."

He smirked at the boy's indignance. "Yes...got it. But will you two be okay?"

"Of course!" Kagami replied easily. He looked up brightly at his older brother. It felt so nice to know that his big bro could leave him here, unsupervised with his work. Then again, during war time, it had been far worse; it was so easy to get separated, and your work was always unsupervised...the only ones who got to witness it were the ones you killed or the ones coming to kill you.

Seeing that young, reassuring expression was more than enough to satisfy his brother. "Okay. I'll be back in a bit." He gave a small sigh. "Also Danzou," he added brusquely, pointing at his brother's chest, "make sure Kagami doesn't accidentally hammer a nail into his hand or something." He gave him a look before disappearing off into the crowd of people on the main street.

Danzou snickered, paying no attention to the punch he got on the arm from his shorter friend.

"Hn."

He turned to him. "So. At least now we can build without Hiruzen messing it all up."

It was Kagami's turn to snicker.

Several minutes had passed as they had soon delved back into their work. They didn't notice the owner having trouble carrying a heavy box into a corner on the other side of the shop, and only turned at hearing his voice say, "Oh! Thank you very much."

"It's no problem. And...I have time to kill for a little while. Need some help setting up?" asked a weary, unfamiliar voice.

Danzou peered at them curiously from the corner.

"Thanks for the offer, Senju-san, but I've already got two little helpers on the other side!" the man declined politely. "And there are three more to be joining us soon."

Kagami turned his head now – as usual, mimicking the Shimura's actions a few seconds late.

"Alright. Have a good day, oji-san."

The owner of the stranger's voice sounded closer now. Kagami tensed as the man approached their side. Slowly, he shifted his eyes to the passing stranger and caught sight of his fluff of white hair and piercing brown eyes. Suddenly his gaze was returned, and the Senju and Uchiha both locked eyes.

Kagami instantly froze. _Not friendly...not friendly at all..._ He gulped. For some reason the man's stare felt very intense, but he could not figure out why. Sweat began to form on his face faster, now. He didn't want to look into his eyes, but he couldn't look away, either. What...

Tobirama did not notice his staring until several seconds into the staring match. He frowned slightly, right before breaking contact with the boy. An Uchiha – he noticed right away. But he could not walk away from the young boy, and the boy did not seem to want to take his eyes off of him, either. Curiously, the young man fully turned his body and faced the child. "What is it?" he asked. He squatted down in front of him, so that their heads were at equal height.

The young Uchiha blinked. "Wh-what do you mean? You're the one staring at me, oji-san."

 _O-oji-san... Oi, oi...I'm not old enough to be called "uncle"!_ "I caught you staring at me." He pointed to himself casually. "...Something on my face?"

He tilted his head. "Actually...there are some red things on your face. Are you...an Inuzuka...?" he asked doubtfully. Then he instantly smacked his head. Obviously not—the shop owner had called him _Senju_ -san.

Tobirama would have chuckled at the gesture, but he realized that he had, in fact, been pointing directly at his cheek. "No..." he said. "My name is Senju Tobirama." He leaned forward slightly. "What's yours?"

Kagami leaned back a little, in response. "My name...is Uchiha Kagami." His momentary proud look was immediately wiped from his face when he saw the faintest hint of something indescribable in the man's eyes.

Kagami...Kyoko...' _mirror_ '...

_'_ _And now you will not be allowed to forget...every time you look into a mirror, you will be reminded of the pain your clan has caused mine_ __._ _ _'_

Kagami watched the strange man blink, and then raised his eyebrows when he just stood there. He couldn't figure out why, but he could see he appeared to be mildly flustered.

"Keep up the good work...you're doing this village a huge favor," the man said, and then walked out of sight.

The young Uchiha's attention was grabbed by his friend's voice once again.

"Oi," Danzou said. "What was that about?" he asked lightly, raising an eyebrow up at his friend. "Got a crush on him or something? Wait 'til I tell Koharu, she'll—"

"Shut up, bastard," he retorted. "He's just some old man Senju...probably has beef with me since I'm an _Uchiha_ ," he muttered.

"So? You're no different, just look at your attitude toward him alrea—" Danzou's eyebrows lowered, and then rose again. "Oi, you do know _who_ he is, right?"

Kagami shot him a look. "And how am I supposed to know such a thing?" He watched his friend shake his head in disappointment, and his annoyance grew.

"That was _Senju Tobirama_."

"Yeah, I know, Danzou. That's what he said."

"..."

Kagami returned his blank look. "Whaaattt? What is it, Danzou?" His expression changed after a moment. "Wait...crap, is he a famous criminal or something?! Or worse...an infamous pervert?!" He slapped his hands to his cheeks in horror. "Oh nooo..."

Danzou could not speak for a moment. He only stood, dazed at his friend's stupidity. "You idiot! That was Hashirama-sama's younger brother!" He folded his arms quietly across his chest.

"...Younger? Brother...?" He blinked. "So he's _not_ an old man?"

"...Kagami, you really are an idiot. He's the same age as your sister, moron," he muttered under his breath.

"Someone talkin' about me?" came a light voice.

The two kids turned around, and raised their eyebrows.

Danzou looked up at her in slight relief. "Ohayou, Kyoko-neesan."

"Aneki!" Kagami rushed forward and wrapped his small arms around her.

"Oof," she choked. "...You're getting really strong, you know that? What a steel grip," she mumbled while trying to pry his hands off from around her waist, but stopped when he looked up at her. "What is it?" She knew he was usually an affectionate boy, but something didn't feel right.

"Hi," he said while looking into her eyes warmly, and then turned his head, pressing the side of his face against her belly once again.

Kyoko wore a curious look while she combed a hand through his curly black hair. "Did someone come by here? You look a little...off." She looked around. _Where's Setsuna?_

At this, Danzou simply shrugged and looked at Kagami. "Senju Tobirama-san said hi. Then he said we were doing a great job. And then he left." He paused. "I think Kagami has a crush on him."

Kagami instantly let go of his sister and proceeded to smack his friend, but Danzou caught his hands. "Don't mind him," he said as he struggled against him. "Danzou's just mad that Koharu likes _me_ instead of him." He smirked.

"Uh-huh," she said. "So where's your brother?"

Danzou finally shoved his friend off him. "Setsuna-nii went with Hiruzen to get Kazuma-niisan," he answered, noting that she appeared to be distracted.

"Oh? Why?"

He pointed at the shop owner on the other side, who looked up and gave them a friendly smile.

"Oh, is this Kazumi-san?" he called. "What a beautiful young lady! Thank you for coming to help," he greeted warmly.

Kyoko raised her eyebrows and flushed slightly. "Ah?" She then looked down at her brother.

He called back, "Oji-san, this is my sister, Kyoko. My brother isn't back yet with _Kazuma_ -nii."

"Ah, I see. Well, you and your family are welcome any time. Please do come by for a treat when the shop is up and running." He winked at her. "And for you, ojou-chan, it's on the house."

Kagami and Danzou began to smirk loudly, trying to contain themselves at seeing Kyoko's flustered face. But Kyoko quickly pushed them out of sight, and Kagami finally burst out laughing. She then returned the shop owner's kind smile. "Thank you, oji-san. I'll keep that in mind," she said, and popped out of sight, glaring at the two boys on the ground. "Get up."

Danzou stood up and helped Kagami up, as well.

"You two shouldn't laugh like that. He was just trying to be kind, you know."

" _Real_ kind, aneki. Like, super kind," her brother drawled.

"For once, I agree with this idiot," Danzou said, pointing his thumb at his friend. "That guy's a perv."

"Boys," Kyoko said hopelessly, twitching her lip. "Speaking of whom," she added, looking past them, "your brother's here. Kazuma, too." She patted both of their heads. "Kagami, Danzou – I'll see you later, okay?"

That grabbed her brother's attention. "Where are you going?"

"I've got stuff to do."

"...You've always got stuff to do," he said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

But Danzou could hear it very clearly. He looked over at him and said, "Leave her alone, already. She's not your mom. She's got things to attend to. Adult stuff."

Kagami's eyes reached the ground as he looked to the side. Why did both of his siblings have to be adults? Everyone was always too old for him, and had more important things to do... Sometimes he felt like he was the only kid in his family.

His eyes then reached Danzou, who was still looking at his sister.

At least Kagami had _him_...and Koharu, Hiruzen, Homura, and Torifu, too. He smiled and let the thought fall away from his consciousness.

As Kyoko began to walk away, she found herself thinking about her little brother's words – but then she quickly moved on, mentally promising she would try to make time for him later. After all, only certain things and certain people were ever only on her mind now...

* * *

—-

It was around eight in the morning when the two founders could be seen walking through the poorly built town, slowly being illuminated by the late sun's rising.

Hashirama turned his head and looked at his friend. "So I talked with one of your clan, yesterday..."

"I know. I was there."

"...Oh, right. How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you know your brother far more than you should..." His relatively expressionless face betrayed a hint of disgust.

Hashirama laughed. "Your little sister is quite charming, to say the least." He felt his arm being removed from its resting spot; he pulled on a small pout.

"Why do you say that?" A few strands of hair fell in front his eye.

"I mean...she has a sense of humor." He raised a brow. "Unlike you."

Madara blew the hair out of his face before replying, "You two really are alike. ...Anyway, she's not my sister."

"I know. You only had brothers..."

The statement was simple and unassuming, but seconds later, a light, horrified frown appeared on Madara's face. He suddenly felt that he knew very little about the man. This man he deemed something of a 'best friend'... It had been ages since they had talked about their families, and Hashirama's response just now had only brought about more questions that he did not want to ask; yet, the words flowed. "...Did you have any sisters?" he asked.

Hashirama seemed surprised at the question, but his reply was quick. "No...well I mean, if you count Toka..." He caught a flicker of what looked like concern coming from the man.

"Well, she certainly didn't rub off on you."

He smiled at the sentiment. It was moments like these that he truly realized how much he'd missed Madara. He sighed. "She is a very protective person," he said as he gazed at nothings while they walked.

"I've noticed..." he said casually. "The way she defends Tobirama's cooking is...remarkable."

"But his cooking is remarkable, you have to admit," he said knowingly.

Madara appeared to become agitated. "I am a far better cook than that brat," he muttered. "Just you come over and I'd cook something far better than that miserable piece of trash he calls soup. Even you'd agree."

Hashirama also became agitated; he didn't appreciate it when Madara spoke about his brother like that. It grated on his nerves every time the two spoke bad about each other. "You really...hate him, don't you?" The words came too quickly, and he realized it just seconds later.

To ask such a question...when it was obvious what the answer should have been...

"..." Madara hesitated. Clearly Hashirama did not know what kind of question that had been, to expect anything less than what was typical of an answer, from himself...but... He glanced at Hashirama, who appeared to have immediately regretted the question. Regardless, telling lies at this time of morning came difficult to even someone like Madara, so he just spoke what was on his mind, whether it came out as acceptable or not – not that he usually cared. "I don't hate your brother..." He then stared at him levelly, unrelenting until Hashirama returned his powerful gaze. "Do you hate mine?"

Hashirama stared back but eventually broke their gaze and placed his hand out low in front of him, pretending to examine the rough skin of his palm. He thought about all the times a member from his clan had fallen by the hand of an Uchiha...he looked to the side. He knew the answer, but this time of morning did not affect him as it did Madara, and instead, he was impelled to lie as he tried to appear neutral.

"Even after all the suffering your clan has dealt mine...I do not hold any hatred towards your own."

It was a plain statement, but it seemed to cling heavily around them, like a grim, hidden secret that had finally gotten to taste the open air, unwilling to let go and return to the dark depths of Hashirama's mind.

Madara kept looking directly into his eyes. "...Then you should expect no different from me."

Hashirama could only blink at the stark answer. It was crystal clear. Why _had_ he expected something different from him?

He realized his complete carelessness at asking Madara that question – even further than he had, before. It had been an honest question, and thus he'd received an honest answer. So then why was this feeling so strange to him?

Had he finally developed a sort of prejudice against this man?

Or was it just natural to expect Madara to hold a grudge against Tobirama, knowing his nature?

New questions formed in his mind but he did not dare say them aloud; he decided to stay silent as they continued to walk. However, after giving him a seemingly casual sideways glance, Madara decided to speak.

"Why so serious, Hashirama?" This time he placed a hand on the edge of his friend's shoulder. He left a slight pause to indicate that he did not want an answer to that question, but wanted it to sink in that he no longer wanted to continue their previous conversation. "Actually...why don't you tell me a little more about Toka?"

Hashirama did not falter at the sharp turn in discussion. "...Toka?"

"Yes. Izuna had had the fiercest crush on her."

This time, however, Hashirama's eyes bugged out. "Hahh?"

"He couldn't really help it. He often got distracted on the battlefield whenever he saw her," he said flatly. "I made sure to slap him after that." Madara removed his hand and crossed his arms.

"...Are you serious?"

"I'm dead serious."

A smiled tugged at Hashirama's lips. "She is...a great shinobi. Although I wouldn't really call her _that_ beautiful."

"Careful. She'll kill you for that." Madara received a sour look, and then graced the ground with a small, wistful smile. "She made him stupid. So many times he faltered when fighting with Tobirama because Toka happened to be there, as well. I'm just curious to know just what he saw in her.

"After all, she was the enemy."

Hashirama slowed his pace. "That didn't stop us, before," he said as he observed the back of Madara's head. Empty head.

Madara's smile disappeared. He blinked. He had basically _asked_ for this turn in conversation; however, he wasn't sure how to reply. The implications of the statement were clear, and he doubted even Hashirama could be so oblivious of his own words. Then did that mean...?

No...Hashirama was too stupid to notice or realize these things... It's not like he could possibly understand his feelings...forget about _return_ them...

He ended up spending the next hour pondering his thoughts and mulling over various things until he was suddenly jerked away from them, and felt Hashirama pull him aside.

"We're here."

Madara looked up. Oh. He turned and watched Hashirama greet a man – supposedly the owner of the building – and exchange a few words with him.

After the old man greeted the Uchiha clan leader, as well, he said, "Thank you, Senju-dono; however, I don't want to overwork you. You must be tired of using your mokuton."

Hashirama was surprised by the man's kindness, Madara could tell. _That idiot...he shouldn't be so surprised._ After all, who could resist the great Senju Hashirama? Everyone knew of his inherent friendliness and goodwill. And everyone knew just how wise it was to take advantage of it.

Despite being very aware of this, himself, the Senju replied, "No, please, it's okay. It's early; I haven't had to use it yet. Thank you for being so considerate, though—"

"Really, I didn't call you for your help on finishing this side of the building," the old man said, pointing to one unfinished portion and waving his hand dismissively. "Actually," he said, beginning to hesitate, " I was hoping you could spread the word of my business..."

Madara couldn't help but find himself echo in disgust, "Business?" Using Hashirama's popularity with the town as a source of advertising...

Hashirama gave a slight sigh at his tone.

"Yes...I am nearly finished building this small library. I also intend to use it to house a few orphans I've picked up, and I want them to have access to decent literature I've been accumulating..."

At this, Madara's stare softened, and his previous tone disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I think you used the wrong word...this is not a business you are running..." he said, allowing something indescribable to seep in his voice. "This is an orphanage..." he trailed off conclusively.

"How many kids do you have with you, as of now...?" Hashirama asked.

The old man raised his sober gaze and met the Senju's eyes. "I have only three right now..."

"Three is more than enough," Madara commented. "Any more than that, and each child may not get enough attention..."

Hashirama gave Madara a careful look before returning his gaze to the owner. "That is very noble of you, ojii-sama."

"Please, call me Hebimaru."

Madara's face began to sour, realizing from which clan the pale man had descended from. He then caught Hashirama giving him a look again; wiping the expression off his face, he gave him a spiteful shrug in reply, before his attention was caught by something else.

"Jii-chan!"

The old man turned at hearing the small voice call out. His pale eyes then widened as a little girl suddenly pulled on his crinkled, tanned hands. He met the insistent, shining black eyes with the love of a grandfather. "Yes, Biwako-chan?"

"Obaa-chan says breakfast is ready. And you shouldn't head out to work before you eat."

"I wouldn't really call this work..and it's not even ten o'clock yet!" He paused, and chuckled when the girl refused to let go of his hand. "Alright, alright. Let's go."

Biwako stared up at the two founders of Konoha for a long moment before turning around and leaving with the old man. The late morning's careless wind carried the curiosity in her little voice as she attempted to whisper discreetly to her guardian, "Who are those people?"

Hashirama gave a small chuckle and turned back to his temporary companion, and noticed him staring at his shoulder; he checked his shoulder before looking back at him and opened his mouth to speak right as Madara decided to say something, as well.

"If there's nothing else—"

"Madara," he interrupted slowly, "since we're done here...I still have some time left to kill." _Toka should be watching over Tobirama for now, so neither of them are bound to get in my hair for the rest of the day..._ Hashirama carefully avoided the gaze that was now on him as he continued his tentative speech. "How about we continue to walk around the town for a bit longer...and see how everyone is faring..." His voice lowered, and even he could hear the deepness that delicately traced each word as he spoke. "Visit old spots...Explore the area... Maybe near the river where we used to meet, when we were still children...?"

Madara's face remained relatively impassive while his mind swirled with repressed feelings. _Damn you, Hashirama. Look at you. Can't you already see that that is_ exactly _what I want to do?_

His dark eyebrows slid forward lightly, betraying only the slightest hint of passionate agreement at his love-interest's subtle implications in the suggestion. "Yes," he said slowly and delicately, not once daring to look away from his friend's warm gaze.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Madara's eyes suddenly widened; he felt his hand being scooped up and lightly pulled forward as Hashirama led the way, allowing them to delve further into the crowd of the developing town, while a strong, cool wind arose and breezed past his face with harsh conviction, forcing him to fully comprehend his current situation with a fresh perspective. He shifted his gaze to the back of Hashirama's head, watching that long, dark hair flowly freely behind him, while ignoring everyone and everything around them. Hashirama...

Those warm eyes...

Wanting to share his world with him...

It was impossibe to not be taken in by that gaze that longed for adventure. Madara's hands and face tingled, and his stomach turned with a welcoming uneasiness. His entire body was simply _excited_ – excited to be the sole focus of the one person he care most about in the world...excited because...because...

It was then, as he was being gently pulled through the crowd, led by his old friend, while searching for the way to best word his thoughts, that he realized.

_He loved Hashirama._

That could be the only answer.

Madara knew that he wanted to spend as much time as possible with him as he possibly could. Only with Hashirama. Always being with him. And doing the things that young people do when they're in love...Exploring, discovering, laughing with, building their new lives together...and just _being._

Together. _  
_

The sudden realization of his unyielding, inconsolable desire for Hashirama surprised him enough to cause a stinging in one of his eyes. Was this love...nothing but a weakness? The tear escaped his eye and flew softly past his cheek, feeling cold as the wind soothingly patted it dry. To want something so much...to want a _person_ so much...

_Just another..._

Decidedly entrusting his mind to his heart, he realized couldn't care about anything else anymore; so he closed his eyes for just a brief moment, letting nothing but the sensation of being led by the one he cared so much for guide him along the way.

_I love Hashirama._

—-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you enjoyed seeing the kiddies ∩( ・ω・)∩
> 
> Also, while I was writing the latter half of Madara and Hashirama's part, I discovered a lovely piece of music called "Arrietty's Song". Damn, that song is so beautiful and nostalgic. It really fits the entire chapter, but it really gave me the feels to finish writing the last few paragraphs.
> 
> I recommend giving it a listen while reading this...really. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And yes, Biwako, too, will be in this fic. ^^ Comments are always welcome ~


	6. Depth Perception

—-

The day was cool, the wind was soft, and the birds were flying happily across the deep blue sky, every once in a while disappearing behind the generous array of small, fluffy white clouds that were scattered so high above.

After exploring their growing village and the surrounding areas, visiting old spots and new, they both lay in a familiar place, side by side along the river's edge.

Bringing a hand in front of his face, one lazily began to converse. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Madara turned his head to the right. "Since?"

Hashirama gave him a look, and then returned his eyes to the sky. "Since we've been able to lie so peacefully here, just..."

"Without a care in the world?" Madara finished for him. He stared at him, and held his strong gaze with equal intensity, before eventually averting his eyes. He still felt Hashirama's eyes on him as he watched the river suddenly sparkle in delight. With each blinding sparkle of reflected sunlight seemingly directed only at him, he could hear its tempting words: 'Try it. Try it. _...DO IT.'_ He smirked softly to himself, and looked off into the left. _Yeah right._

A small, wry smile played on Hashirama's lips. Feeling something tingle in his chest, he watched him curiously. "What's so funny?"

Broken from his daydreaming, Madara unsmoothly replied, "Nothing," and became silent for a a long moment. He could feel the tension in the air between them growing. Above him, the sun's rays were beating down on his cheeks harshly, flushing them a warm pink. He looked up at their source, and squinted slightly. _You, too, are telling me..._

But no matter how relaxing their day had been, it was too soon. Earlier realizing that he was in love with Hashirama had done odd things to him. He found himself constantly questioning each word he was about to speak, each action he was about perform...all becoming too aware of himself. What if Hashirama saw through him?

Madara knew that he was uncomfortable with his own thoughts, so what made him think that Hashirama would be comfortable with them, either?

 _ _'Hashirama...I just really want to hold you. To hold you close. To look into your eyes and see that you want me, too.'__ Madara mentally slapped his hand against his forehead, already exasperated with his current state. __If only Hashirama heard those thoughts going through my mind...__

He was so. Stuck.

Although Madara's mind was elsewhere, Hashirama's eyes could not leave his body. He stared at him longingly. Fear tugged at him, making him have second thoughts about what he had to say. He turned on his side, just inches away from...

 _You can't_ _,_ he told himself irresolutely. His heart began beating faster, and his fingers tingled with the urge to reach out to the one so peacefully beside him.

Fortunately for him, it was instead Madara who decided to speak up again. "Did..." The heavy words felt clumsy as they escaped his lips, but were spoken with a low smoothness that made the Senju shiver. "...Did you ever feel like—"

"—Yes," came the immediate reply. Hashirama quickly placed a gentle hand on Madara's left cheek. He kept it there for a split second before suddenly placing his lips on the other's, as well.

And that's when Madara's brain stopped working.

It couldn't be! This was too good to be true...

His best friend— _also_ had such feelings?

Madara had only dismissed them as mere fantasies, something of a sort that could not happen, not ever...not in this lifetime. But now, here, next to the one he loved...

The relief Hashirama was feeling was beyond overwhelming... _Madara shared his feelings_. He was not being pushed away like all the other times... The thought made him very happy. He chuckled through the kiss.

Fuck.

Madara blinked. He immediately broke it off and held his hands on the Senju's shoulders in an attempt to push him away. _No—_

Hashirama mentally facepalmed. _Yep. Just jinxed myself._

"Why did you laugh...?" Madara questioned, feeling a quick sinking feeling begin to settle in his gut. So it was a joke, then. Why else would Hashirama do such a thing? "Is this some sort of emotional training?" Learn to accept rejection? He had already learned that lesson. Or had he...? Madara stared at him intensely, searching his eyes earnestly. "Because I don't need such a thing..."

"..."

"Ahahahaha!" Hashirama busted up.

The sound of his good-natured laughter gave Madara feelings of love and burning regret all at once. Which was it...?

"Madara, you are so insecure..." He wiped a tear from his own eye—the inevitable product of a hearty laugh.

"...Oh, I'm the insecure one?" Madara scoffed. "You don't think what happened just now meant anything, did you?" Countless thoughts and emotions of confusion, betrayal, and self-loathing swirled beneath his exterior. The feeling made him feel lightheaded although he maintained his hard expression easily. He sat up.

Slowly, Hashirama did the same. He gazed at his best friend carefully. A look of incomprehension began to take over. _He did just ask if it was emotional training..._ He stifled a laugh once more at the mere thought, but grew serious again. _Does...he really think that...?_ He slapped his hands to his cheeks. _...Crap!_

Madara studied the face in front of him, and read into his soul. This time, after searching for just a moment, he easily found what he was looking for. Relief overwhelmed him to a degree that he would never admit to have ever felt. "Just kidding!"

"Madara! Ahou! You really had me going there!" Hashirama's eyes bugged-out.

The Uchiha smiled at the genuine expression in front of him. His own face relaxed at realizing what he now had...

No...what he had had all along...

And now, the only thing he could feel was the liberation that only a person blessed with pure happiness could ever achieve. There were no more barriers between them anymore. Drowning in his own desire, he held his soulmate's gaze with burning passion. They had already loved each other unconditionally, and the sense of freedom at this realization sent a thrill of euphoria through their veins. Unable to take their eyes off each other, they both acted on the only thing on their mind.

The kiss was sloppy, and heated. Madara felt himself being pushed back, but he wouldn't have it. With one swift movement, he leaned forward and compelled Hashirama to the ground.

Hashirama fell back, surprised. He felt the hair beside his ear being ruffled softly. He let his eyes close again, smiling warmly through the kiss. This...was happening. Madara did love him.

Feeling sentiments of relief, love, delayed frustation, and a hidden protectiveness all colliding beneath his exterior, the only thought on Hashirama's mind was that nothing could make the world brighter than it was at that very moment. They were the two most powerful shinobi around...and the world was, for once, at peace; nobody could stop them. This was their moment and their moment alone to share.

_Nothing could touch them._

* * *

—-

From the rough, grey boulder he sat upon, the shinobi turned his neck to face the presence beside him, seeming only partially surprised at the new company. "What are you doing here?"

Standing beside the rock, Kyoko leaned her left hand on his right shoulder, staring out at the relatively still pond in front of them. "Your brother asked me to send you home."

"No he didn't."

"He did. I met him just earlier as I was around with my brothers."

"No, Hashirama is too distracted by Madara right now...he left Toka and I to rest."

"So then?" she said, the indifference in her voice coming natural to the both of them. "Why are you here, instead of resting?"

"I am resting. I'm sitting. Staring at a pond," he said, and then unintentionally allowed the faintest of amusement to flicker across his face. "Unless...this doesn't look like me."

"This isn't you," she confirmed easily, keenly noticing the rare hint at his own trickery. Turning around to stare at the tree off to her left, she called out, "Why are you hiding over there? What is this thing?" She pointed at the body that sat beside her, and then flicked it hard. "You aren't really Tobirama..." she whispered to it, letting her irritation be known.

But the body beside her did not reply, and merely kept gazing up at her with the same familiar, impassive stare – that is, until a kunai was suddenly sliced across his neck.

She gazed down at the clone unremorsefully. "You little shit."

Its expression became pained; blood began to gush out from the wound, and then all of a sudden, it disappeared with a _poof!_

By then Kyoko had already put away the bloody weapon and made her way toward the tree, having caught the man standing behind it. She looked up at him curiously, and then pointed back to where his form had previously been. "Tobirama! What the hell was that?!" she suddenly demanded, finally beginning to appear freaked out at the whole ordeal.

"..." Tobirama was silent for a moment. "You just..." he sputtered. "You just _killed_ me!"

"What!? No I didn't – you're still here." Her eyes widened. "Right?" She latched her hands onto his body, patting it in all places, as if uncertain whether this really was some kind of illusion or not.

"You just..." He lowered his head in defeat. "You completely saw through it..." He looked to the side tiredly. "Guess it still needs work. Damn..."

"New jutsu, huh?"

"New jutsu that apparently I fucked up, completely..."

"How? What was this? It looked like a clone...but I was able to touch you—it," she corrected, finally putting aside the possibility of it having been genjutsu. "You've developed a solid kind...?"

Tobirama broke out in a suprisingly modest grin. "Yes." She appeared so intrigued — "I suppose you could say it's nearly complete now." — and it made him feel fluttery with success.

"Oh really? Why didn't you tell me about it before...? I could have helped test it out for you."

"You just did; you killed me—it," he corrected, as well. He tried not to think about the clone's experience as he – _it_ – had made her acquaintance before it had disappeared, leaving Tobirama dizzy with its few minutes of experience in the living world.

"Yeah, but...I knew it wasn't really you," she disagreed.

"It was basically the same thing."

"It wasn't you."

"It could have been."

"Dammit Tobirama, it wasn't you. And it's not like you actually felt any of that..." she said.

"Actually..." He cut himself off, changing his mind. "Anyway, —"

But she'd already caught his words. "It did? You actually felt that?" She leaned closer. "What kind of dumb jutsu is that..." she muttered, inspecting his neck.

"There's nothing there," he said plainly.

"I see that..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"So! Tell me about this jutsu. So far I know that it has the same properties as a regular bunshin... but this kind is solid, and can feel pain." She thought for a moment. "And it 'dies' when fatally stabbed."

He squinted his eyes. "You mean beheaded," he said with a cough.

"Eheh..."

"Well, you're fine so far, but it really just needs any kind of solid blow before it disappears," he explained. "Unless you decide to dispel the jutsu, first, of course."

"Okay...hm...oh. And then when it disappears, for some reason the pain is sent back to the original user..." She looked up at him and made a face, then leaned against the side of the tree and folded her arms. "What kind of stupid jutsu is that...why would you allow for that to happen...?"

Tobirama stood beside her and quietly watched her think. His eyes then brightened when she turned her body to face him once again and question him.

"Tobirama, what exactly did you hear me say to your clone?"

"You called me a little shit, if I recall correctly..." he said, raising his eyebrow. He plopped a hand down onto her head and messed up her hair.

"Hey! Can't my hair look decent...for just one fucking day?" she growled, trying to part her bangs back over the right side of her forehead.

He lifted a few locks of her hair and then let them fall easily. "It's getting a bit long. You should cut it. It'll only get in your way."

She stared down at the tips of her hair. It was already three inches past her shoulders now... "Yeah, I will." She shoved him with her free hand. "But you really... you _couldn't_ haven't heard what I said to your bunshin. You were too far away..." A few seconds later, recognition flickered across her eyes once again, and she stepped forward to where she'd shoved him. She now had her answer, and Tobirama knew it.

He watched her move forward, and leaned forward in response, unwavering.

"Senju Tobirama... you really are a ninja."

He smiled. It paid to have a friend who had a decent amount of intelligence. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know..." she said. "This jutsu appears to carry a certain, undeniable usefulness to it that I just can't shake..."

"..."

"..."

Tobirama's saw her give in to her quiet smirking. He looked at her questioningly. "What is it? What's so funny?"

"Haha, nothing..." she replied with amusment. "Just..." She pushed her dark hair back and stood up straight, retaining her original posture. "Okay, show."

"...What? Right now?"

"Yes. This looks like too much fun."

Tobirama could see her practically rubbing her hands with glee. He wanted to demonstrate it again, but he knew it wasn't wise. He was aware that it needed work, and now even more so, seeing as how Kyoko had been so easily able to see through it; one of its main issues was indeed its enormous chakra consumption. Just making one clone took a lot of effort, as he was still testing its efficiency for practical use. The goal was to make as many clones as possible, using the least amount of chakra for each. And right now, in his state, it was simply not a good idea to— "Okay."

"Okay. Also, I want to try it out. I have an idea in mind..."

Suddenly intrigued at hearing her thoughts, he knew now that he just couldn't have helped but acquiesce.

"Can you show me the hand seals?"

"The good thing about this jutsu is that there is only one." He showed her.

"Okay."

"Now, when performing the seal, just imagine that you're making a regular bunshin; the key difference though, is to think of it as an _actual_ copy of you. Your absolute flesh and blood...everything. Your weight, the texture of your hair, the texture of your skin–"

"Yes...?"

"...Yes...So just do that. Your clone is your twin. A real, hard copy of yourself, standing right beside you." He looked down at her carefully.

Kyoko moved her eyes. "But you're standing right next to me."

"...On the other side, idiot..." he responded, shooting her a look. "Okay, now—" he stopped himself quick for the third time that day, remembering the most important part he'd wanted to say. "Kyoko, you haven't done any training today, have you?" he asked suddenly.

She looked at him curiously. "I'm not tired..." She looked at him carefully, this time.

"This technique, as it is, takes up a huge amount of chakra. I can't have you starting off with only fifty percent," he answered. "I don't really feel like carrying your heavy ass back home because you were careless and passed out."

"Hm. I believe you are talking to an Uchiha. We have bodies your clan can only dream of." She smirked.

"..." His cheeks would have shone a light pink had he not been underneath the sparse shade of the tree. He wasn't sure how he felt, knowing that half the time she was unaware of the implications of her own words — unless it was just another product of his overanalysis of speech and body language, which proved very useful in life, enabling him to perceive people, their intentions, and most situations with such ease that it had eventually become seamlessly weaved into his subconscious as something many had come to experience from him as...an inherent intuition. "Good. Then let's begin."

The two shinobi put their hands together in formation and gathered their chakra. Approximately three and five seconds later, two solid clones appeared on either side of them, respectively.

Then one instantly dropped to one knee.

"Bah..." the other ninja mumbled, shaking where she stood. _What a failure._ This new bunshin of hers was distorted in weird places, and clearly of no use... Kyoko gazed at the pathetic mess on the ground and made a face, then stomped upon her failed clone, and it disappeared with a fart-like _poof!_ She then panted slightly, feeling the sudden breach in her chakra level hit her like a ton of bricks. She closed her eyes tight and reached out for the nearest tree to grasp.

"...Son of a bitch... what kind of crappy ass jutsu is this, fucking—" Her eyebrows then lowered when she turned to look at her partner's clone. It indeed looked better than hers had, but its caster looked in terrible shape.

She crouched down beside him, and unlike she had done to his previous clone, placed her left hand roughly upon his right shoulder. Once he opened his eyes, he turned to look at her in annoyance.

"So who's the careless heavy-ass person that needs to be carried back home, now?" she asked. She received a light shove in return, and nonchalantly raised a thick eyebrow. "Stop. You shouldn't have tried the technique again. It's not safe if you don't take a break, you know."

He raised a brow, as well. "You're a liar." He adjusted his posture, and placed a firm hand onto the leaf-covered ground to steady himself. "Hashirama didn't send you to come get me..." Not taking his eyes off her even once, he asked, "So then...why are you here?"

She blinked several times. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," she said. It was hard to lie in front of him, especially right now, with that ever-questioning look in his eyes.

"...Just wanted to see how I was doing?" he repeated, momentarily dumbfounded. That seemed like the kind of thing Hashirama would do.

"Yes."

Tobirama carefully examined the bright brown orbs that stared back at him. He got lost in them for a short while, and soon began to realize that they reflected almost everything he saw in her. Everything...projected back onto him. He could see clearly. What kind of person she was, what kind of person she saw him as...everything clearly shown, with no walls in between them. He could see perfectly his reflection, just as if she was a mirr... The thought quickly faded.

He blinked, and quickly looked away. Izuna loomed over him with the weight of their shared violent, bloody history. Why did this man hold such influence over him?

And why couldn't he seem to go anywhere today without looking at an Uchiha, both of them seeming to reflect everything he could appreciate in that person, and seeing how they viewed him, as well...an inherent "trust" in them that he would never be able to deny? He breathed out and rested his chin upon his forearm where he sat with his knee up. Trust was not something that came so easily to him. So why with these two?

Kyoko put a hand on his shoulder. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Nothing." He wasn't one to talk about his thoughts or feelings, let alone to a woman he had only known for a few short months, but... – He met her eyes once again – there was something about _her_...that demanded his attention— attention he wasn't hesitant to give. Tobirama waited, brooding for a long moment, knowing that before he began to willingly let himself go...before he accidentally opened up anymore than he already had, he needed to know something. He stood up. "Kyoko...I have a question for you."

"...?" Standing up as well, she watched him meet her eyes diffidently, but equally. A full moment passed in silence as she waited for him to speak. When he didn't, she finally said, "You're hesitating," and then crossed her arms. "...No need to be considerate. If you have a question, you know you can ask me anything."

"...Good," he said, relieved on the inside that they were long past formalities. "Then let me be blunt—it's about your clan." He saw no twitch in her facial muscles, nor the slightest hint of disturbance in her posture. He wondered if his previous tone had already hinted towards the subject he had yet to fully disclose, but continued on anyway. "During the time we were still trying to convince Madara to accept the truce, as you know, several members of your clan had defected onto our side, out of fear and out of hope – hoping to help alter the stance your clan had taken...or rather, refused to move away from." He folded his arms and leaned back against the cool, rough bark of the tree.

Taking his repeated pauses into consideration, Kyoko temporarily put aside her thoughts and let him go on without interruption. "And...?"

"At the time, a shinobi from the Yamanaka and I were working together in determining whether or not the Uchiha defectors were legitimate in their wanting to ally with us, or...if they were actually sent as spies." Tobirama looked up. Yes. That had gotten her attention; yet, she had no comment. "You realize what must have happened next, right?"

"Of course. Because they had defected only once the casualties within our clan began to rise at higher rates, their eventual cooperation could be seen as a last minute resort to infiltrate your small alliance and break it apart."

Tobirama gave a single, slight nod. So she understood.

"Yet, even as they came to you for support, broken up and torn between what they had done or what they might have done...you decided to strip them of their very last bit of dignity...and go straight inside their heads." She placed her hand out tensely in front of her. "Those were _invasive_ techniques—"

He sighed. "Kyoko..."

"They came to you for help. And yet you broke them. Unnecessary interrogation techniques... _all_ gone to waste." Her head tilted slightly downward. "They went completely mad. Do you know that, Tobirama?"

Something like exasperation combined with anger came across Tobirama's face. He maintained his even tone. "Ok, stop, – "

"There was no need to use a Yamanaka for this. You yourself are a good enough interrogator; we've worked together before on this. I _know_. So then why did you feel you needed to use them? You _know_ how devastating their mind jutsus can be!" Her expression was slashed with fury. This...had been the number one reason why she'd disliked Tobirama from the start. Among other things he'd done, she'd tried to forget about it...and learned to be as diplomatic as possible with him...and eventually, even became friends with him. But now he was bringing it up again, admitting his mistakes to her, as if trying to absolve himself of his actions.

Tobirama narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't my decision to use full force on them. But I fully stand by the decision that was made."

She stepped closer. Of course, to Tobirama, no mistakes _had_ been made; he was not here to apologize. "The Senju in the alliance were to oversee the investigation. In the end it was _your_ call!"

"I know that!"

They stared at each other heatedly.

"Regardless, I don't regret what happened during those times. It was for the sake of security..."

"There you go again, acting like my clan is some kind of inherent threat to you." She moved away from him, throwing her hand out into the air beside her.

"Kyoko, that's not what this is." His eyes were filled with ice.

"Then. What is it. About."

"It's your goddamned eyes. Your blood. ...Your entire clan," he finally admitted to himself and to her. "I don't understand..."

She glared at him sharply.

Tobirama regained control over himself, and let out a breath. He was already tired from the start – he'd hardly been able to hold a conversation with his brother just earlier that morning...so he was amazed at how he could even make it this far into a conversation with a woman who seemed to misunderstand nearly every fucking word he spoke.

He finally said, "There were things the defectors said...while they were being interrogated. Things that were seen." He waited for a response, hoping she would confirm her knowledge on what he was not enthusiastic to say. "Also, as you know, the few who came to our side did not possess the Uchiha legacy. Those Uchiha were _afraid_. They were afraid of their own clan." He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head down at her. "Can you tell me why that is?" He watched her blink slowly and meet his eyes soberly.

"Tobirama..." she said in contemplation, "I need you to promise me that you won't speak a word about this to anyone." She didn't flinch as he stepped toward her, settling just centimeters away from her rigid posture.

He studied the recently healed cut on the side of her face – a product from their spar a few days ago – noticing how the pale new layer contrasted with her tan skin. "I just need to know this. I need answers. There's no other reason I would be asking you like this," he said quietly "What is this...'Curse of Hatred'?"

The muscles in her arms tightened across her chest. She knew the question would eventually be asked at some point. "Promise me."

"Is it bad? Does this present some sort of valid threat to our establishment? And ultimately, is our town safe with your clan residing in it?"

She darted her gaze to each of his brown eyes, fully returning his intense, analytical look right back to him. "Who the _hell_ do you think you're talking to? I doubt anyone else from my clan would bother speaking to you, like this..."

Tobirama did not feel like telling her that no one, regardless of clan, had spoken like this with him, before; there was no way he would settle into such territory with anyone else. "Just tell me what I need to know," he demanded again, firmly.

"I need your silence on this, first."

"...Fine," he agreed. "I won't say a word to anyone."

* * *

—-

The Senju stood upon the edge of the large rock mountain and took in a deep breath, and then coughed upon breathing in the large amounts of pollen, dust, and particles of dried up leaves from the near-naked trees. Their time spent near the river had left him giddy, and he stood rather unsteadily at the rock's ledge. "So then, Konoha?" He raised an eyebrow. "Of all things, that's really the name the man whose face is going to be carved onto this rock chooses for his village?"

The Uchiha in turn raised an eyebrow at his wording. "Stop with that already. And yes."

"What a lame name...seriously."

Madara rolled his eyes. " _You're_ a lame...game," he retorted pathetically.

"A lame game? I'm a game?"

"...Pretty much, yes." Madara noted the curious, doubtful look in Hashirama's eyes. Giving him a small smile, he added in a mysterious tone, "I like games."

Hashirama smirked. "That, Madara," he replied, "is something I've known for a very long time. In fact, –"

"So you were here..." A voice interrupted them. "What are you doing, idling over there?! Have you forgotten about the meeting with the Lords of the Land of Fire?"

Hashirama turned to the source of the voice and frowned lightly. What was his brother doing here? Wasn't he supposed to be at home, resting with Toka?

"Tobirama..." Madara looked warily at the man, who looked right back at him, with an equal if not more intense wariness. _What's his problem..._

Hashirama turned around fully and moved forward. "Right, I must have lost track of the time...We'll finish talking about it later. " Reluctant to take his eyes off Madara, he gave him one last glance and said, "I'll see you." His tone left a lingering sense of warmth and assurance as he walked toward his brother and proceeded to leave with him.

Standing alone, Madara felt the harsh wind return. He closed his eyes, still content from his day spent with the man he loved. And slowly, he smiled.

"Yes," he replied, once they were gone. "I'll see you, too."

—-

 

A/N: If you are wondering what Kyoko looks like, well... I did some art of her! [Here](http://leavesoftoka.tumblr.com/cutie) are some [pictures](http://leavesoftoka.tumblr.com/post/70104148889/observations-kyoko-kyoko-uchiha-zephyr-clan) of her on my tumblr, so you can get a better image of her. I've also posted art of the rest of the founders too  ヽ( -ω-)ノ


	7. Cracked Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case there is confusion, Chapters 4-8 all take place on December 25th, the day after Madara's birthday.

—-

Inside the Senju residence, the tall, dark-haired woman stuck her head out from her room door and cautiously looked around. _Crap!_ She was not supposed to have woken up so late into the afternoon...plus there was something she was supposed to have been doing...what was that? Something was off, as well...

She sighed and placed a hand onto the wall beside her. Her head was pounding. "Oi, shitty brat—" She stopped and stood in the middle of the hallway, hearing her voice echo lightly.

Oops.

As if to assure her of her thoughts, the front door suddenly slammed open and an urgent presence made its way inside the house. "Toka!" The footsteps became louder and closer. "Are you here?"

She groaned. So he'd been out. And he didn't even bother. To wake. Her. Up. "What is it?" A few seconds later she was met with Tobirama, looking physically weary but mentally overcharged.

He approached her steadily, observed her disheveled black hair, and how it fell out of her ponytail, bun - or whatever it was that she called that mess. "I need to talk with you."

Toka raised an eyebrow at his own wind-swept hair and looked off at the wall. "I have a headache. Go away."

"Save your hangover for later...right now there is something important I have to tell you..."

"Go tell Hashirama." Her thickly-lashed lids lowered as she watched his mouth open, and then close.

He faltered. "I...I can't."

"Why not?" She looked at each of his eyes, seeing a repressed urgency in them. "Where else did you go? Did you two fight?"

His mind went back to the aftermath of the recent meeting. "You could say that..." His lids lowered as he let out a breath. "Toka, just listen, that's it."

Smirking to herself, she uncrossed her arms and began to walk out of the hallway into the living room. "You don't seem yourself, today." She blew her deeply parted hair out of her eye, then felt it settle back onto the left side of her face. "Have you met someone?"

Tobirama began to falter once more, but quickly regained his composure. "I can't talk to Hashirama about it because it's about...the Uchiha." He walked over to the opposing couch where she sat, and looked at her face once again. "It's about Madara." He could almost hear her sigh.

"...And what could be so important about him, right now? Going by the time, you came back to town with Hashirama an hour ago, right? How did the meeting with the Fire Lords go?"

"It went fine..." He shook his head slightly, mentally kicking himself over not recalling on the details of the discussion. After all, he was too focused on the possible calamity of— "Madara as the Hokage."

She didn't blink. "What?"

"Hashirama thinks that the leader of our village should be Madara, and that leader is to be the 'Hokage'. He was also unwilling to let anyone else have a say in the matter..." His dark eyes lowered. "...Including me..." _No. It was not wrong to interject_ , he thought. _Democracy is important, and Hashirama couldn't see that._ "Although I finally convinced him otherwise..."

She sighed. The aggravation was clear in her expression, but Tobirama could tell she'd begun to go back to her normal self. "Brat, you know Hashirama is capable of making his own decisions."

His gaze returned to her sharply. "Not when it comes to Madara."

"Why are you telling me this, Tobirama? If you were already able to convince him to see your way, then what is your problem? Why are you still going on about this, even after you got your way?" Her half-lidded, dark teal gaze bore straight into him.

"He is just so blind when it comes to that bastard."

"And you are not?" she returned sharply. She let that sink in for a moment and studied his rather subtle reaction. "Hashirama may want to see the good in everyone...but all you see is the bad." Seeing him mull over her words, she stood up and made her way to the dining table and placed her left hand on it lightly.

God, her head was still pounding. Why hadn't Hashirama stopped her from drinking so much? _I need someone to prevent me from executing my bad habits. Hashirama is not capable, Tobirama thinks it's fun to not intervene, Madara simply joins me, and no one else in this family likes me enough to even talk to me..._ She closed her eyes.

She needed a husband, wife... _somebody_. Already twenty-six, and she had no interest in anyone whatsoever. Of course, it was not exactly an easy time to find something as rare and complicated as actual love.

"Argh..."

Glancing at his clan member's self-frustration, he thought well about his own. _'All you see is the bad.'_

Tobirama knew he was the introverted type; he felt more at ease and relaxed when in the presence of his own company. All this village building...acting cordial with others when he just wanted to bang his head against the wall repeatedly at their stupidity...being Hashirama's brother, dealing with Madara, and now this 'curse' the Uchiha clan possessed... People exhausted him. But meditating, thinking, planning...all these things gave him a revitalizing energy that no person had ever been able to offer him before.

Except for...

The woman was quickly erased from his thoughts for the sixth time that day, as he returned to Toka's weighty words. _Geez..._ Even if only at twenty-six years of age, his 'older sister' had an amount of wisdom that even the elderly would be envious of.

Once he was done thinking, he resolved to resume the conversation that Toka had left off for him to eventually continue. But when he opened his mouth, no words would come out.

Instead, the kunoichi sighed and said bluntly, "Just...stop. I am tired of your petty rivalry with Madara; it goes nowhere. Is there something wrong with him being the leader of the village?"

Tobirama's mind returned to his earlier conversation with Kyoko. Hardened logic and stubbornness carried his words back to him. "Yes." His voice was clear. "It's especially wrong when nobody else has the chance to have a say in who will be making the decisions for them."

She gave him a subtle, knowing look. "Nobody else...including you."

He ignored her prying. "Hashirama is usually very considerate of everyone around him...but he could be screwing the _whole_ village over this one, selfish decision," he said firmly, then sneezed into his arm feeling an unpleasant, warm sensation spread under his cheeks.

"And so...how did the meeting. Go?" she asked once again.

"...Uhh..." Looking to the side, he tried to pick out what could have held any importance of the useless banter between the Lords and Hashirama. Most of it was just small talk and friendly chatter, and then it ended – surprisingly _swift_. To his vexation, Tobirama had only been thinking of two things at that time: his unyielding infatuation with Kyoko, and his coincident aversion to her. He found himself equally attracted to her, yet also repulsed by her...

Disgusted with himself, he wondered if he'd let the 'Curse' become an obstacle in his understanding of her...if Kyoko had deserved his secret revulsion.

But, no...Kyoko was a female. As far as he knew, he'd not encountered a single female in the Uchiha clan who had possessed a Sharingan. So then, there should not be any problem...

"...Hello?" Toka's husky voice interrupted his thoughts.

He blinked and looked away. God, even at nearly twenty-two years, he was daydreaming as if he was ten years younger. "I'm so glad you quit smoking," he said distantly, as he picked himself off the sofa and went to pour himself a glass of water.

She raised an eyebrow at the remark on her voice.

Once inside the kitchen, he remarked in a low, distracted voice, "The Aburame are forever in my debt...creating this ingenius plumbing system..." and brought the glass to his chapped lips.

Sitting casually at the dining table, Toka lowered her eyelashes and folded her hands in front of her. She sat quietly and uttered the belated response, "Indeed..."

Both shinobi then blinked at hearing the front door slowly open. They turned their heads and stared at the two ninja entering the home, then looked back at each other, mildly raising their eyebrows. Time to disappear.

"Don't. Just don't," the Uchiha stated brusquely. He took his coat and hung it over the back of his companion's head.

The door was slammed shut. "Madara, can you let me speak for just a second?"

"No, Hashirama. I don't want you to speak," he said in low voice, pressing forward.

The Senju was backed into the wall of the front hallway. He looked at the face just inches away from his own, staring at it for a long moment, before suddenly turning to his right, checking the dining area.

No one.

Hashirama let out a breath and returned his attention to Madara. "Then...what do you want?" He stared in quiet adoration at the ambitious eyes in front of him before they suddenly broke his gaze. He blinked as Madara moved forward, further into the home.

"No one else is here?" There was a slight echo to his voice as it reverberated within the walls with its characteristically warm depth.

Oh, how Hashirama loved that voice. "Ah..." Walking toward Madara, he removed the coat from his head and attempted to smooth out his long, straight hair. "Tobirama usually goes out around now. Although since he's sick, he might be in, sleeping. And Toka..." He thought for a moment. "Ahh...I have no idea. She does things...on her own schedule."

"An admirable quality, no doubt," Madara remarked as he entered the kitchen. He observed an empty glass on the countertop. Someone had been here not too long ago. He scanned the area around him. "You underappreciate her, you know," he said.

Hashirama entered the kitchen as well. "...I feel like you dote on her a lot," he commented, raising a casual eyebrow.

"It's the other way around..."

Pulling out a chair, Hashirama looked at him with mild curiosity. "Hm?"

"My older siblings were killed...as you know. To suddenly become the eldest of your siblings...can be burdensome." He leaned against the low section of the countertop and crossed his arms. His eyes shifted to the unusually quiet Senju. "But that is something you can undoubtedly relate to."

"...No," he replied carefully, looking down at the table. He fiddled with his hands. "Not as much as you. In my closest family, the eldest shinobi with the most power is Toka. Plain and simple. There are no 'elders' in this family. And none wish to hold the kind of power she does."

"And what kind of power does she hold?" he stated, rather than questioned.

Hashirama looked up and met his eyes. "Responsibility. Accountability. Those are her jobs. And she does them well."

"So then, what is your job?"

A few seconds passed before he blinked and echoed slowly, "My...job..."

Madara stared down at him from the angle at which he stood. The five feet away from each other felt like just five inches. "Yes." He could see the gears trying to turn in Hashirama's head; they were stuck – trying to move past each other, but only grinding and grinding and grinding away in the same spot. He could see that all firm composure the man had previously had was now gone. And for some reason...this pleased Madara.

Was it knowing that Hashirama had failed to properly defend him in front of Tobirama? He knew that Hashirama's method of choosing a leader was not fair, but neither was leaving it up to a democratic vote. People were stupid— they didn't know what was best for them.

But Hashirama knew. Tobirama knew. Toka knew, Kyoko knew, and he himself knew. Even little Kagami must have known. Regardless of whether or not it was 'fair', letting one intelligent person pick a rightful leader was the only way progress could be properly made in the village.

Remembering some of the lengthy conversation he'd had with Kyoko just prior to meeting with Hashirama once again, he scowled.

—-

_"_ _Aniki, the method of how the leader is chosen is irrelevant. What matters is the result. Are the people happy? That is the ultimate question."_

_"_ _That's my point. So if Hashirama gets to decide a leader, I'm more than fine with that."_

_"_ _You forgot the 'people being happy' part. What if they're not happy with who he decides?"_

_He refrains from giving an immediate response, and bites his tongue. Of course, she does not know that it was_ he _who Hashirama had wanted to choose. "_ _Kyoko, you're too young to understand."_

_A bitterness is evident in her expression. "In case you've forgotten, Izuna and I were the same age. But that is beside the point..."_

_His tone changes. "_ _Don't...bring up Izuna."_

_Kyoko scowls. "He doesn't belong to just you. He was also my best friend." Her eyebrows rise slightly, as she looks off to the side. There is a quick moment of something indescribable that subtly passes across her face. And for that moment, she looks near inconsolable.  
_

_"Shut up_ _."_

_"_ _No you shut up. And now you're letting your arrogance get in the way of what's right." Her expression twists into bitter regret. "...Again..."_

_Madara's hands clench into fists. "Do not start this."_

_She stares back into his eyes. "If you had not been so damned arrogant, –"_

_"_ _Watch your tone, —"_

_"_ _Stubborn, and_ unyielding _—"_

_"_ _Stop it," he growls._

_"—_ _Then perhaps so many of our own would not have died out of_ your _own unwillingness to cooperate!"_

_Madara shoves her against the wall with force, holding her by the neck. He looks at the eyes that remain defiantly set upon him. Judging him. Looking into his soul and reading out everything he already knew. Like a mirror._

_He knows she's right. But it hurts. It hurts to know that someone could know so much about him, list out his stupid mistakes in front of him...so easily...and after all of it, still love him in the end._

_His eyes widen._

Isn't that what Hashirama had done?

_Feeling Madara's grasp on her loosen, she forcefully shoves him off and speaks in a low, hoarse voice. "Go to hell."_

_He stands in place, watching her slowly move away from him. And he burns._

_"_ _I'm already there..."_

—-

To have somehow earned the love of the kindest people he knew...

It sickened him.

Looking back at his companion, his eyes softened. It was not Hashirama's fault that the town was most likely going to elect him as Hokage. After all, the renowned Senju was more than a capable leader; Madara knew that very clearly. Hashirama was the only person he trusted to fulfill the position. Seeing the man still sitting in the chair, lost in thought and stuck behind his mental obstacles, he sighed. "Forget it." He walked over to the shinobi and looked down at him, and smiled faintly.

Hashirama stood up, assuaged of his introspection, and mirrored Madara's expression with subtle relief.

"Let's go for a walk?"

Hashirama's smile broadened. "Sure." He left the kitchen and checked the other rooms to see if anyone was home, so he would know whether or not he needed to lock up. First, he passed Toka's room. "Toka..." Seeing no sign of her, he shut the door. Then he went to the adjacent room and knocked quietly on the closed door. "Bro, you in there?" Slowly turning the handle and opening the door, he stepped inside and nearly tripped.

"G-gah," he mumbled, looking down at the source of his near-fall. He raised an eyebrow. Tobirama was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall space right beside the door. "What are you doing down there?" he asked. Squatting down, he faced him. "You shouldn't sleep on the floor, you know. Geez," he muttered. "I thought I told Toka to look after you."

He looked up at him. "I know. Now go, punish her."

Hashirama sighed and grinned, and then picked up his brother by the shoulder and tossed him onto the bed. "Did Tobi-chan happen to go training today?" He poked Tobirama's side incessantly with both hands, like a small child. "I can tell. Your chakra is half-gone."

"Shut up," the younger shinobi mumbled, curling himself up into the blanket. He sighed. "Now...get out."

"You're such a workaholic," Hashirama remarked, talking over him. "And you're still warm. Don't get up until the fever's gone."

"Have a nice walk with Madara," he said casually.

Hashirama stopped, and gave his brother a sly, duplicitious look. "Especially after our conversation earlier today, Tobirama, I'm done. If you eavesdrop on me again, I'll let Madara deal with you," he said rosily, and walked back out.

—-

* * *

It had been a relatively quiet walk for the first half-hour, as the two silently enjoyed each other's company, like an old couple who had been by each other's side for longer than they could remember; but on the inside, both of their minds were very active, and far from harmonious balance.

Madara reflected on the hours that had passed between now and their parting at the cliff of the mountain. How he'd stood upon the ledge, feeling a level of peace he hadn't felt since... _Never before._ How he'd really wanted to attend the meeting himself, but did not want Hashirama to know...how he'd eventually gone and followed the two and overheard their conversation – their argument...how now, even while he wanted to avoid the topic at all costs, it kept resurfacing in front of his eyes...

And it was all he could think about.

So now, placing the protectiveness of his clan over his newfound love for Hashirama, he eased his way into conversation, in an attempt to manipulate whatever truth Hashirama had heard from his younger brother. "...You know, Toka may dote on me sometimes, but you dote on Tobirama."

Hashirama turned to look at him. "Huh?"

"Big time."

"..."

Madara returned his look. "What?"

"I do not dote on Tobirama."

"Yes you do. You're such a...grandpa."

"What?"

"..."

Hashirama looked away from him, settling his gaze on a falling leaf. He watched its slow, soft descent until a sudden, harsh gust of wind blew it completely out of sight. "He's saved my life more times than I can count."

"Just as you do him."

"Yes..."

"Hm."

Unintentionally slowing his pace, Hashirama said just as slowly, "...You know, if there's one person you definitely don't dote on...it's Kyoko-san."

"Kyoko?" Madara echoed. Why was he bringing her up, of all people? With creeping realization, he wondered if Hashirama had figured out his motives for the conversation and was trying to show that he'd been aware all along.

"Yes."

He looked off to the side. "She doesn't need doting on. I depend on her."

Hashirama frowned lightly. "All the more reason to encourage her."

Thinking of a way to keep the conversation away from her, he quickly differentiated, "Encouraging and being affectionate are entirely separate things."

"Not for women."

"Excuse me? Since when are you an expert on women?"

"I'm not. But that's how my mother saw it."

Madara was silent for a moment. Maybe Hashirama hadn't figured out his motives. Which begged the question – "Why are you asking about Kyoko?"

They soon entered a forest-like area, and the deep evening sky could only be seen in large, dark blue splotches between the mostly naked, pale branches of the trees above. A few ash-colored squirrels raced around one skinny tree nearby, and then quickly hopped to the next, openly enjoying their fervent game. A few seconds later, they both raced across the shinobis' path.

"Why not?"

"But why?" he pressed again.

"Well, for a woman you depend so much on, —"

"I didn't mean I actually _depend_ on her—"

"—you really don't show enough affection for her," he finished thoughtfully, letting a mild concern lace his expression.

Madara stopped. That was it. "And just what the hell do you know about affection?"

Hashirama stopped as, well. "A lot more than you do, apparently."

"Don't lecture me about my own family," he said lowly.

"Well you two seemed to get along fine, but as your adviser and confidante, don't you think she has enough of a burden as it is?"

"It's the same with Tobirama. But you don't see me complaning about you two—"

"The difference is that I let him know that I am grateful for his existence! I'm not like you, only being kind when the benefit is for myself...You, only being kind to suit your _own_ needs."

"...That's not true," he said, surprised at how easily, how _intuitively_ Hashirama had gotten under his skin...without even knowing what this was all about.

"You're manipulative, and selfish." Hashirama kept his voice level and devoid of emotion; something he had picked up from his brother.

"Stop. Talking." Was this the same man who had wanted to make _him_ Hokage, just earlier that day?

Hashirama moved closer to him. "No." His face remained impassive with only a hint of faint concern. He didn't want to intimidate him, but he didn't want to be shut out, either.

Seeing him step closer, Madara moved back. Then, a glimmer of grim recognition could be seen in his eyes. _No...he did know._ "You were there..."

All this time, Hashirama had him figured out from the start.

"I was." His light frown deepened. "After the discussion with the Lords of Fire...you overheard us talking, didn't you? Tobirama and I."

Madara would not have broken his gaze at hearing such a blatant fact, but knowing that Hashirama had done just the same made his heart twist just ever so slightly.

"After I figured out you had been outside, I followed you, wanting to apologize for what my idiot brother had said...but you went home. I looked through the glass and I saw you talking with Kyoko-san...arguing with her." He couldn't think of why the two had gotten so worked up...and why Madara had reacted the way he did when she had brought up Izuna. "The whole compound must have heard you. Madara, how often do you two actually fight...like that?" He remembered the way he'd pinned her by the neck, as if so offended by her words that he felt something like a murderous rage toward her.

"She's a ninja," Madara dismissed evenly.

"Who deserves some respect," he finished for him.

"It's none of your business what I do, who I talk to, or how I act."

"Even if not doting," he interrupted, "I know you are very capable of showing affection..." he said. His tone quickly changed as he uttered, "Unless I just dreamed whatever happened back at the river."

Madara stiffened. "Maybe you did."

Involuntarily, Hashirama's frown slowly slid upwards, in subtle hurt.

"..." Averting his eyes, Madara folded his arms. He noticed how assertive Hashirama was being today; it wasn't like him. Knowing that he had caused Hashirama to become agitated bothered him somewhat, but also...excited him. Casting a small, unnoticeable glance toward the man, he saw him staring off to the side; yes, the hurt was indeed evident...

Without thinking, Madara moved forward and pressed his lips against Hashirama's. "You get depressed so easily..." he murmured, moving one hand through Hashirama's hair and holding the back of his head. Madara had never imagined what it meant to be seductive, but if he could have read Hashirama's thoughts right then, he would have learned that it didn't matter – because coming from a man like himself, just the suggestion of affection was a turn on for Hashirama.

"First you argue with me, then you kiss me..." Hashirama whispered to his ear. "But...how long will the 'kiss' part last, before we end up fffhhhng agnn...?" he asked, his last few words muffled by Madara's lips.

Feeling a hand snake around his back and move him closer, Madara replied in a whisper, "You'll know...when I know..."

* * *

—-

After a day outside with the kids, he came home for the second time that day. His parents were out, and his siblings busying themselves, elsewhere. He went to wash his face, and returned to see something white wedged behind the potted plant near the small window.

 _Another meeting is bound to occur within a few days,_ the paper said. He'd hear about it, soon. He knew. After all, he'd heard the argument loud and clear, outside those walls...and now, nearly half the clan knew. They were angry, and upset. After the treaty acceptance, they were once again ready to swallow their pride in order to maintain the peace they had finally achieved – and he knew it was no longer an option to sit idly by and hope that things fall into place.

But he also feared that others may not agree with him; it was unfair, but time and time again they'd been disappointed, and no longer held the same respect towards the man as they once did, before. Therefore, action had to be taken...and he'd already been contacted.

Fear could no longer hold him back. If _'he'_ served as a threat to the stability and fairness of this alliance...

Setsuna looked outside the window, feeling the sharp edges of the note graze against the palm of his hand. Yes, he would go meet with his cousin to see what he had in mind.

—-


	8. On the Horizon

_—_ _-_

_Evening is already approaching as he reaches out for piece of paper and his paintbrush. He sits on the old wooden chair quietly, hearing it creak every now and then as he shifts around slightly, feeling the brush shake in his hand. With mild anxiety, he writes the note, and carefully steadies his hand. His watches the words appear onto the thick paper, watches the lies he writes... the partial deception he instructs his friend to go through with._

_Placing a hand onto the table loosely, he thinks about what he's about to do._

_Then he remembers. He remembers Setsuna as he was about to defect. He remembers Izuna staring him down harshly, threateningly. Kyoko watching with general disapproval and weariness over the entire situation. Watching Setsuna try to go talk with Madara about the clan's weariness of battle, only to be put down and back into his place._

_Yes, he is angry._

— _-_

Hikaku was very angry.

Now, having already delivered the note, the hand on the table finally formed into a fist.

Nobody was going to mess with Setsuna...

Setsuna, who was bullied for wanting to defect from the clan. Setsuna, who if he was to defect already so late into the alliance, would have been placed under the same intense scrutiny and psychological probing the others had been subjected to, and likely would have lost his mind. Setsuna, his closest friend.

The fist became tighter.

His memories and actions caused him to begin to gain confidence of his plan. But... Setsuna could never know the truth: what he was writing to his friend was a lie. A farce. To get him to understand...

_No..._

It was not something his friend could ever possibly comprehend. Clan politics was something he claimed to understand, claimed to know how to work through. But Hikaku knew better.

In order for this so-called alliance to last, they needed a firm, but flexible leader, one who was not so unstable and ruthless as Madara. He knew that if anything, there were several adults who could quite capably take the position. In a time where clan rivalries and war finally had no place in the village nor the hearts and minds of anyone who truly wanted this peace, even Setsuna or Kyoko would be capable enough; he'd seen what they could do. _Although..._ He frowned deeply. He did not like Setsuna's younger sister at all. Though she may appear emotionally and intellectually capable, he severely doubted her physical abilities, despite her high position as Madara's guard and adviser. She was nowhere near as powerful as him...

He near scoffed into the air of his apartment. He didn't even know how she'd pulled off gaining such a position, in the first place. As if a woman such as her could lead a clan...or any woman, for that matter...

He didn't think there would be much trouble in replacing a leader as ineffective as Madara.

The fist on the table slowly loosened as he shifted his black eyes away from the wall he had been intensely staring at for the past five minutes.

At least Izuna was dead. Madara was still not one-hundred percent after his loss...and Hikaku didn't think he'd ever be. But then...there was Kyoko. Madara and Kyoko. The two of his clan most likely to get in his way. To ruin what he had planned. But it was no matter; if anything, he knew of a perfect way to hit two birds with one stone. He just couldn't let Setsuna find out.

* * *

— _-_

Inside his family's house, the young adult thumbed the note he'd received behind the flower pot. _Mysterious as always, that Hikaku..._ He near chuckled at how secretive his friend was being. It was almost as if they were plotting to kill someone...

The door flew open.

"Nii-san!"

Setsuna turned at hearing the young voice. Quickly, he folded the thick note in half, and shoved it into the left pocket of his dark pants. He watched as his younger brother approached him. "Hey. What's up?"

"I just beat Danzou in a spar!" Kagami looked up eagerly, with his dark brown eyes shining in odd contrast to his black hair that seemed to hold a dark pink hue to it.

"What?" He rolled his eyes, and gave skeptical grin. "Yeah, right."

His little brother scowled. "But I did!" He placed his hands onto his brother's chest and pushed. "Seee?" He pointed to a small cut on his forearm. "The kunai that he used, well, right after he got me, I took it from him and pinned him down." He remembered with satisfaction the look in Danzou's eyes as he lied on the ground in defeat. There had been a new look in his pale hazel eyes – something that Kagami could not quite describe, but only knew that it made him happy. "Finally."

"Hm." Setsuna made a noise of approval. "Good. I'm glad your skills are improving. Maybe you'll reach my level someday," he finished with a wink.

"...Will you spar with me?" Kagami asked brightly, then eyed his older brother's faceguard that sat on the table next to him. Kagami had come notice that the slightly worn piece of protective gear had always held some sort of significance to his brother. He couldn't figure out why Setsuna always kept it nearby all the time, even when not dressed in his usual shinobi clothes.

Setsuna blinked at the sudden question. "Right now?"

"Yes."

"Uh..." His eyes shifted to the side. "You're too young. Once you get bigger, then we'll spar," he assured.

"...I'm not too little," he replied, pouting his lip just ever-so-slightly.

"Dude, you're like twelve years younger than me."

Kagami really hated when his brother brought up their age difference. "So?"

Feeling the paper burn in his pocket with its weight, he turned away from his brother. "Later, Kagami..." He reached over to the wooden desk that lined the wall to his right, and picked up his house key. As he began to head toward the front door, he held up the dark, shining piece of metal in front of his deep brown eyes. _We really don't need keys.. Nobody bothers to mess with us, anyway._

—-

Once the Uchiha had reached the opposite side of the compound, he saw Hikaku already sitting outside, dressed in his usual wear and appearing nonchalant as always; in his left hand, he held a cup with hot, dark liquid.

Blinking away the late-afternoon sun from his eyes, Setsuna continued toward the front entrance of the single-occupant home. "What, no coffee for me?"

Hikaku watched as his friend approached him. He saw how the light from the sun irradiated his brown orbs, coloring them something heavenly. His eyebrows lowered ever-so-slightly once the man had come under the shade of his front patio roof. "There is no coffee for you," he replied.

"That's quite cold."

Hikaku blinked. "Actually, it's quite hot."

Setsuna laughed and placed a hand onto his friend's right shoulder as he passed him, opening the front door without reservation. "I'll get a cup from off the stove."

Momentarily left alone, Hikaku smiled softly, and brought the steaming cup to his lips. "Hm." It was nice to be in the optimistic, warm company that was Uchiha Setsuna's. Too many others in his clan were colder...or perhaps it was always those few he consistently seemed to be in the company of.

A couple of minutes later, the front door opened once more and he heard a distinctive creak of wood. He was soon joined by his cousin, who held his own hot cup in his hand.

Setsuna shivered. "You lied." He reached out his arm to the left, holding out his cup and waving it lightly in front of Hikaku's face. "It's tea."

"I told you there was no coffee."

"Hn," the elder Uchiha replied, curling his cup of tea toward him, as he scanned the horizon carelessly. Evening was approaching fast; the winter nights were always so quick to appear, as if taking the duty of the sun into its own hands, letting the day rest for in order for brighter, warmer weather to appear at the end of the night's self-proclaimed duties. "Anyway, I got your note." He felt a breeze blow through his long, spiky hair.

The same breeze could be felt through Hikaku's ponytail, although for some reason, it hit a bit harsher for him. "Yes." He shifted.

Setsuna mirrored his shift in position. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes."

"Have you taken into consideration the clan leader's potential backlash?"

There was no hesitation. "Yes."

Setsuna took in his reply heavily. "What about Kyoko?"

He paused. "...What about her?" Goddammit, why did have to bring her up?

Setsuna removed his eyes from the horizon and turned them sharply on his friend.

Growing slightly agitated, Hikaku repeated, "What about her?" He didn't like this side of Setsuna so much. This heavy, protective aura that seemed to appear whenever his siblings were brought into question. An aura only for them.

"She is my sister."

"I know that."

The other Uchiha let his eyes linger on him. "I just wanted you to remember that."

"I don't plan to do anything to her. She will be left out of this," he said sincerely, wishing the opposite were actually the case.

"I know you don't like her..."

Hikaku brought his lips to his cup again for a sip of the overly-sweetened black tea. "What makes you say that...?"

Setsuna mused over his question, choosing to fully ignore it in his answer. "Hikaku, just don't screw this up. This was your idea, and I'm only here to be aware and ready for whatever consequences may occur from it." After he'd overheard Madara discuss with Kyoko what he'd learned from Hashirama...

Finishing the last of his tea, Setsuna set down the cup onto the wood beside his chair. "Now," he said in finality, with a distinct, deepening change in tone, "how are you going to tell Madara-sama that you want him to drop out of the election?"

The wind suddenly picked up and nearly blew over the tea from Hikaku's hand. He watched Setsuna turn his head back at him with mild curiosity. Cool as ever, he set down his cup lightly, as well. "I know a few people. People who share our interests. Of course, they are just like us; not quite so organized, but willing to go along with..." he adjusted his phrasing, "...our ideals." He checked Setsuna's face for any hints at seeing through his deception.

Setsuna's face remained the same. That guarded expression, one fraught with the idea of the unfavorable task he was not fully even aware of - though it was not as guarded as Hikaku's, at that moment. No. Hikaku had much more to hide, if he was to solve their clan's problems his own way, and still maintain his close friendship with the man beside him.

After all, no one had ever bothered to understand him like Setsuna.

_What had happened?_

Setsuna waved a hand in front of him.

_Where had their childhood gone?_

"Oi. Hikaku." His deep voice brought the younger Uchiha out of the past. "How many people do you need - and are they even reliable? You haven't given me any details..."

Hikaku let out a breath. "It's nothing complicated, Setsuna; I know how to get Madara to step down. Leave it to me." He eyed the man from the corner of his vision, carefully avoiding the innocence of his lingering, questioning stare.

* * *


	9. Illusory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leading from the end of Ch 7.

—-

The two shinobi softly, slowly rolled on the cold, dry grass, huddled near each other for warmth. The day had grown darker; it would be night in only another hour. A painted array of chalky, grey clouds colored the edges of the evening sky, while the sounds of the forest became more prominent as the day's light continued to sink away into obscurity.

Hashirama breathed out. "Madara…you know the election is planned to occur in five days." He turned his head on the grass, looking up at him lazily. "Are we not going to talk about this…?"

"What would you like me to say?" he said.

"Whatever you want. Whatever's on your mind," he replied smoothly.

Madara stroked the hair away from Hashirama's face, his expression unchanging. "I don't care."

He blinked lazily. "Hm?"

Madara contemplated the other's ease of speech, and ease with emotions. He tried to do the same. "As long as I get to be by your side…I don't care. Nothing…" He clenched the dark strands of hair between his fingers with a hint of possession. "…Will ever keep me away from you. Not our families, not our village, and certainly not its politics…" He didn't want to think about any of it. Truthfully, it didn't matter to him. He knew he was not likely to be picked. As long as it was Hashirama bringing everyone together, he didn't care.

Hashirama smiled gently at the affection that radiated from his eyes. "You're…such a romantic, Madara," he said with playful chuckle, and rolled Madara off him, letting him lay on the dry, cool ground, instead. His long, dark hair fell on either side of Madara's face as he looked down at him lovingly.

Madara raised his eyebrows faintly. "I'm the romantic?" he remarked in amusement, and then brought his neck forward, kissing Hashirama once more.

Hashirama closed his eyes and felt Madara sit up, pushing against him once more. "Yes," he breathed. "If anyone's the romantic– " His air was momentarily taken away as Madara kissed him deeper. He let go briefly to finish his sentence. "–It's you." He then felt Madara lean into him more, pushing him back. He resisted, but then felt a hand at the back of his neck, softly making its way up into his hair – how did Madara know his weak spot? – and he relented. He fell back against the trunk of the tree behind him, focusing on nothing except the bliss of Madara's touch.

It was refreshing, and arousing to be the one not in control. Hashirama was typically the one in charge, the person everyone decided to listen to, no matter what. He easily overpowered most of his enemies. And now, the thought of having that all taken away from him, to his surprise, gave him the most liberating sense of freedom – he didn't have to initiate everything anymore. The feeling turned him on so much, he momentarily pushed Madara back, afraid for the feelings that were beginning to arouse elsewhere.

Madara sat back, and looked at him. "What is it?"

"Nothing…" Seeing something indescribable flicker across Madara's eyes, he brought a hand up to his face and held it, gently thumbing his cheek. He watched the other blink slowly in response. How could he word this? "I just realized…how much I really love you." The words came out easily, but he felt his insides begin to freeze up at Madara's delayed reaction.

Madara blinked a bit faster at this time, and removed Hashirama's hand from his face, and held it in front of him, gently pressing his palm, staring at the creases that had been formed before birth. He tried not to think about the words Hashirama had just said to him. _Romanti_ c? That was definitely Hashirama… Madara couldn't even begin to think about being the one to have said those words to the other; it was not something Madara might have so easily said. "I don't know how…" he began, quietly fiddling for the right way to phrase his thoughts, "…how we got to this…" he finished in a distant, speculative tone.

Hashirama stared at his tanned hand, enveloped in the other's slightly paler skin. He felt the creases being touched so lightly, as if his own hand were to disappear, as if this whole romance were only an illusion. "I guess…I always sort of loved you…"

Madara shifted slightly, appearing to be somewhat bothered. "But…how do you know…when you're in love?" he asked. "At what point do you distinguish friendship…from _love_ …?"

Hashirama gazed at him with heavy lids. "Is it really important?"

"…Because friendship doesn't always last…" He recalled their own friendship, and how it had died once, or _had_ it, truly? "People go away…" He looked into his eyes, and began to frown. "It's important to me, because I don't really know what this. What the difference is. I'd rather this not just..disappear. Like my clan's trust…" _Don't let your bitterness ruin this. This has nothing to do with the past._

_Stop dwelling on it._

The lowness of his tone made something unfurl comfortably inside Hashirama. After taking in his words, he knew now that even more, how much he just wanted to make him happy… Seeing Madara in this state of insecurity didn't suit him… Hashirama wanted to change that. He closed his eyes, and gave a small, reassuring smile, trying to distract him from his unnecessary contemplation, trying to keep him safe and away from his clan, away from his troubles.

"God I love your voice…" he finally admitted in a voice of his own that was nothing less than seductive.

The tips of Madara's lips twitched slightly as he continued to stare into their entwined palms. Then he looked up. Hashirama's charm appeared to be working, even as Madara detected it so clearly. He could feel Hashirama's intentions behind his aura, knowing that he only wanted what was best for him. Knowing this made the Uchiha feels blissfully warm inside. "Oh really?" His soft tone was hushed further by a kiss. Once again, he felt powerless. But in front of Hashirama, like this…he wondered if it wasn't such a bad thing, after all.

"Yes, really…"

"Because I really like yours, actually…" he murmured back softly, grabbing a fistful of Hashirama's dark locks, playing with it before raking his fingers further up near his ear.

Hashirama pulled back, letting their noses touch, clearly loving the feeling of his hair being played with so lovingly. This side of Madara… it really was a first. Of course, it was a first for Madara, as well…to see him so open like this. "Oh really? Then in that case, why don't we trade?" Then he pressed his lips onto his once more, not giving him the chance to reply.

The other broke apart, softly smirking. "Only in your dreams…"

"But _is_ this a dream…?"

"Don't ask me…" He sighed, letting Hashirama relax into him. They lay quietly against the volume of the wind. "I truly wouldn't know."

"…But for now…"

"Quiet," he reprimanded, lowering his eyelashes down at his friend. A few minutes later, Madara opened his eyes, and nudged the man beside him. "Oi…"

But Hashirama had fallen asleep, succumbing to an appropriately dreamless slumber.

**—-**

* * *

**—- December 28 —-**

Madara opened his eyes.

_'What were you dreaming about?'_

He closed them.

 _'It was about that Senju, wasn't it? I can tell.'_ The owner of the familiar voice became closer.

_'You've stopped dreaming of me, haven't you?'_

Madara shifted on his futon with decision. "No, I haven't...I've not forgotten you. I never will," he said softly, protectively.

 _'Just now, you were dreaming about that day on the edge of the mountain...how long do you think this will last?'_ He took his hand and softly brushed the loose hair away from his brother's eyes...his eyes _. 'Don't fool yourself.'_

Madara whispered defensively, "It was no dream."

Izuna sat on the bed, beside him. _'Yes it was. This whole thing...is a dream.'_

The elder Uchiha met the younger's eyes. It pained him to see his brother in this state. Izuna had never been one to look toward the future, but he certainly was not the brooding, vengeful type. Was this...the only way he could think about his late brother?

"Enough... " Madara said with a frown, painfully aware of the anguish that was already seeping into his voice. "I don't want your memory to be only of this... this side of you..." He then sat up and held his hand over his forehead, looking hazily around the room. The apparition had disappeared.

He sighed deeply.

 _Am I really getting bothered by this?_ Madara recognized that he was beginning to feel trails of resentment toward Izuna...and he despised himself for it. The guilt...the betrayal he felt...over choosing Hashirama, instead...it was enough to form feelings of resentment toward his dead brother. The dead brother who had been the only person Madara had ever truly loved... until now. The thoughts sickened him so much that the feelings of detestment were then set upon himself.

Not worthy of Izuna's love...thus not worthy of himself...therefore not worthy of Hashirama's love.

So then...who was left?

He soon reached the living room, and looked around, taking in the darkness of his home, focusing only on the spots where the brightness of the moonlight could be seen. He then slowly moved on and leaned over the backside of the couch, cupping his face, looking down at the person who lay on it. It did not surprise him to see Kyoko lie there.

After they had fought, she had avoided him for the next two days. But now, here she was, taking residence inside his home at in the dead of the night.

He thought for a moment on whether or not he should speak, but the time of night was later than usual, and he was curious at her change in behavior. "What are you doing here?" he asked simply. He noticed the blank, dead expression on her face as she stared past his face, past his long, dark hair that hung over her from above. He waited quietly for a response. When she didn't answer, he asked again. "You can't sleep?"

_'So nii-san accepted the treaty, anyway...'_

_'Did you try to convince him otherwise?'_

Kyoko's eyelashes fluttered. As she laid on the softness of the sofa, it felt as hard as the answer that rung in her ears with quick defiance. _No..._

_'How could you trust them? Kyoko, after all they've dealt us in the past, you still find yourself becoming close to one of them...'_

"I'm not..."

Madara was silent as she spoke the words into the air.

 _Ani thinks of you a lot._ She _c_ ould feel Izuna's heavy black gaze on her. It was no longer his light, friendly aura that surrounded her like in the past; it was somethng of a dark emptiness. A sad uselessness for what existed now. _I'm not enough to keep him happy, here..._

_'I miss you, Kyoko. I wish I was there. I'd be able to keep you safe and nii-san safe.'_

_I don't need protecting...and neither does he. But he misses you greatly. So much that, despite your eyes being with him, he becomes blinded, at times._ Tears involuntarily began to form in her eyes. _So much...that I've only become relevant now that you're gone... But I..._ "I miss you, too..."

"Kyoko?" Madara repeated.

"No..." was her belated reply. She closed her eyes, and slowly began to sit up, almost bumping into Madara's head. Her golden brown eyes glinted in the bold light of the moon. "I'll leave..."

"No," Madara said, a bit too quickly. He put his hand on her left shoulder, stopping her from sitting up all the way. Easily obeying, she let herself fall back onto the soft material. "It's fine..." He frowned, blinking, as he saw a tear escape her eye and slide down onto her dark tresses. He stood for a moment longer, closed his eyes, and then left. He began to regret how he'd acted toward her that day past. But he still couldn't let go... _  
_

_It appears we're both thinking of Izuna, tonight..._

—-

* * *

The following morning, Tobirama stood outside the familiar building, waiting patiently for his partner to arrive. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the closest wall. _Twenty minutes late_ , he observed, knowing that she usually arrived at the same time as him, if not a little earlier. He spent the time watching a small ant march towards its hill several feet away. Behind it, there were five more ants struggling behind, each carrying a small piece of food on its back. However, before the ants could make their way to the hill, a small lizard suddenly passed across their paths, quickly scooping up the ants and their treasure for the hill all in a single swipe. Tobirama did not blink.

"Ah. You're here early..." Kyoko's voice seeped into the dewy air as she came toward him, hoping her walk didn't look as sluggish as she felt.

Tobirama quirked an eyebrow. "No, you're late..." He glanced up at the early morning sun. "Half an hour late. They're going to start any moment now." He paused. "You know, timeliness is a key thing, when it comes to diplomatic matters."

She looked away, not wanting to face him. She sighed. "It's hardly diplomatic. It's internal, and these guys just keep talking about nothing, and going at it..."

He gestured with his right hand. "That's not my point. I shouldn't have to stand here for so long, waiting for your ass to get here so late," he insisted, staring at her slightly worn, blue and brown gloves."

"Nobody asked you to wait," she said distractedly.

"We're partners," he answered firmly. The hardness of his red-brown gaze disappeared. "I wait."

Something fluttered mildly within her, sharpening her focus back to the conversation. Why should he care? And if he did- "Then don't complain," she said, quickly falling back on her logic. Tiredly, she pushed the hair out from her right eye with her palm. "Of all people, you shouldn't be the one complaining about anything."

Tobirama blinked, taken aback. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Through half-lidded eyes, she scowled as well, brown eyes piercing his own. "It means shut the hell up already," she said, then proceeded to walk past him.

He couldn't believe they were already fighting again. "What's your problem?" he demanded, stopping her from behind, turning her around from the shoulder to face him.

"Right now, you're the problem." She was exhausted. Unable to sleep, she'd laid on the couch all night, thinking of Madara's words to her that day. Their argument. And realizing how much he'd hurt her, realizing only afterwards how much she'd hurt him, as well. She brushed Tobirama's hand off from her, mumbling halfheartedly, "Let..."

 _—_ -

_'Don't say that name around me.'_

_'Izuna didn't belong to just you. He was also my best friend.'_

_'Shut up.'_

_'If you hadn't been so damned arrogant, stubborn, and unyielding, then perhaps so many of our own would not have died out of your own unwillingness to cooperate!'_

_She is angry._

_'Go to hell.'_

_'I'm already there...'_

_But then she understands: Izuna had been the one to refuse to cooperate; he had always been the one. And for Madara, it was always Izuna._

_When he died, Madara had no choice but to use Izuna's final gift to defend his last wishes. After all, what good were Izuna's gift to him if it could not be used to satisfy his will?_

_And so, she remembers:_

__—_ -_

_'Ani, Izuna gave you his eyes. He gave them to you to help protect our clan – to defend it at_ all costs _.' She watches him look up at her. 'But don't you see? Right now, by continuing to fight and refusing to accept the treaty that is being offered, we are not protecting our clan. We are destroying it.' She thinks of the defectors, and the torture they must be going through. She grips his shoulders firmly. 'Accept the treaty. You have nothing to lose if you do.'_

_'No. I'll lose Izuna.'_

_She answers back harshly, 'You will lose more than that if you don't.'_

_'Nothing is worth more than him...'_

_There is a stinging near the bottom of her eyes at his hearing his answer. She cannot bring herself to refer to him as her brother any further. 'He is already gone. Think. He wanted to protect the clan, and thought that by continuing to fight, we'd be doing just that. But look what has happened! Our numbers are falling, and many have already crossed to the other side out of fear.'_

_'Out of cowardice,' he disagrees, averting his fury-filled gaze away from her._

_'...Izuna would have wanted this. I know how much distrust he had for the Senju..but in the face of this, in the face of this horrible situation, he would have wanted you to protect your clan!' She stares at him firmly. 'Now...are you going to continue with this madness, or are you finally going to put a stop to this?'_

_'No...we cannot—'_

_'Stop it. Don't let your pride rule you.'_

_'My pride?' He looks at her incredulously, fury still in his eyes. 'Don't act like you know me...'  
_

_'I don't have to. And I don't believe you.'_

_'You dare question my motives—?!'_

_'Then think about what he would have done! What_ he _would have wanted you to do!' she shouts. 'And if you still think this is the answer, then you were certainly not the brother he thought you were!'_

__—_ -_

Kyoko knew that even after he had appeared to submit, he had still gone against her words. After all, he was Uchiha Madara. And it was at that very moment, after he had gone against both his clan and Hashirama, for the final time, that she'd realized who Madara truly held closest to his heart. Indeed, it had once been Izuna, but once Madara had intervened in Hashirama's attempted suicide, she knew that was no longer the case; for the person Madara now held closest to him was none other than Hashirama.

It was then that she began to wonder whether or not that had always been the case, underneath it all... - if Madara had been hiding his desire to accept the truce while wearing Izuna's mask of revenge the whole time, in turn hiding his own internal struggles with his clan and its politics.

Tobirama's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "...I didn't come here to watch you arrive late and then argue about it," he replied with a scowl, picking himself off the wall. "I wait for you, and you fight with me about it..."

"You don't need to stand here. Your clan head is already inside; there is no need to wait out here for me."

Averting his sharp gaze from her, he opened the door to the building with an astounding calmness. "Anyway, this is the last meeting before the election is to take place. We won't have to see each other again," he finished brusquely.

She shifted her eyes away from the door she was about to step through, not wanting to think that this was the last time she would be doing so. Before she went in, however, a new presence made itself known from behind them.

"Excuse me, may I step inside? I need to talk with—"

Tobirama turned around fully to look at the owner of the voice, staring at the slightly older man up and down, then stepped forward and exhibited an air of outright dismissal. "Sorry, sir. You are not allowed to enter this building."

The man began to fidget slightly, as if under stress. Then he brought his hand up in front of him; in it he clutched a neatly folded piece of paper. "I have a message I need to pass on."

"Message?" Kyoko questioned, ignoring the temptation to rub her puffy, tired eyes.

"Yes. The name is inside," he replied, holding it out toward the Uchiha with a single, gloved hand.

"...And your name?"

The man averted his eyes from the kunoichi. "I cannot say."

"An anonymous message, you say..." Tobirama exchanged looks with his partner. It had been agreed that it was acceptable to receive unsigned messages from members within the participating clans of the alliance, in case they did not necessarily agree with the decisions of their clan heads, or had been unable to voice their opinions prior to the meeting. Of course, the idea had been his.

Tobirama eyed the man with lingering caution before stepping forward and accepting the message in place of the kunoichi, letting his arm fall slowly in front of him, note in hand. Giving Kyoko a brief nod, he turned and pushed open the doors to the newly painted building, and disappeared inside.

"It is appreciated," the man forced out in a soft, mysterious tone, staring at her with repressed agitation.

The Uchiha woman placed a hand upon her hip. "It's no problem..." she replied to his thanks, gazing back at him apathetically. When he didn't seem to leave after several long seconds, she proceeded forward with a sigh. "Sir, although considerably late in its delivery, your message has been relayed. For now, this area is off-limits."

"I'll see myself out then."

She continued to stare warily and said, "You do that." As she watched him turn away, her eyes shifted down his side with alarm. She grabbed his left arm quickly, and hard. "Protocol states that aside from guards assigned to each clan head, no one is to be in posession of any weapons," she stated, catching sight of the blade that had been hidden from view. Something indescribable flickered across the shinobi's pale blue gaze, and Kyoko tightened her grasp on him, spiking her chakra accordingly at the potential of such flagrant deception. Lowering her voice, she demanded, " _What was in that letter?_ "

—-


End file.
